Swatches

Gold is the color of conversation
between well Traned saxophone riffs,
my ear drums and nerve endings
Notes drip richly through my speakers
as hot buttered soul, melting sunshine

Crystalline snowdrift is the coat
I've painted on my future. Radiant
to reflect the ornate beauty
of all that is to furnish my path.
This too, is the color of muted noise
and blanketed distraction
stirred and dissolved into nothingness.

My heart pumps red, visceral illumination
by which to read me clearly.
A fine color for hearts, but never for sleeves
Silver is designated to sleeves.
A buffed and shined spin on grey.
That color that says, "neither here, nor there"
Refusal to sprout roots, lest you think I care

Green is the stain of suspicion
on an iris that no longer trusts
Envy leaked from unseen emerald tears,
salted and turned to stone

Icelandic blue chill rises and spreads
like a geyser gush. Stardust sprinkled
behind eyelids introduce me to God,
and the color of release.