Red fizzes with anxiety and
tension, like a bottle of cherry
soda shook hard in the sun
and fixing to burst open.
Orange nibbles her
cuticles and smiles, looking
up briefly from the Pinterest
page displayed on her phone.
Urban aesthetic. Yellow
guffaws like a sugar high
teenager on summer break,
plugged into a chat on Discord
and not really listening to a single
thing you say. Green widens her
eyes every morning then brews
loose leaf tea, stirring widdershins
to banish fatigue and negativity.
Blue stares out the window
and traces shadows with her
fingertips, wishing she had a
cigarette but making do by
burning sandalwood incense.
Indigo takes you on a midnight
road trip, Screamin Jay Hawkins
blaring from the car stereo, putting
a spell on you. Violet settles into
the sofa and just thinks when
you ask her how she's feeling.
Brown smells like espresso
and talks with her hands, rich
black earth embedded under her
fingernails, more a monologue
than a conversation, treatises
that leave you reeling. Gray
curls up cat-like on the favorite
sweater you left piled upon the
chair, snoring softly and
whispering lines from Carl
Sandburg poems in her sleep.
Black absorbs everything
you throw at her with neither
judgement nor retort. Frankly,
she scares you a little. Silver
slides over your skin like
cool running water, pooling
in all your hollows, while gold
effervesces like sunlight
trapped in champagne,
bubbling with laughter.
YOU ARE READING
Shadows & Dust [poetry]
PoetryMost of my poetry is autobiographical. I write about living with bipolar disorder, dating, single parenting, my neo-pagan spiritual beliefs, my dreams, and sometimes popular folklore. Many of these pieces come from my self-published collections...