It's a good thing that red lights aren't like red flags-
more commonly seen in hindsight.
Color blindness may be more like
selective hearing.
Why are there so many bright
crimson colors kaleidoscoping
when remembering (him)?
Would those red flags be like;
the ambulance rides, the light coming in
on the sides (gut instinct)
could it be
the blood splatters, bloody hands,
drunken stupors
or the rage, or his cheeks,
the fire-alarm(s)
the sunsets, the stains
or the business bank account
shiny red as a waxed Macintosh apple
(poisoned)...
Not once
an apology,
not black or white-
It seemed neon
not calling me beautiful-anymore
disdain, malice, silence
and absence (even when present),
'Vacancy'
Now I can see
the grey area
are the clouds, air-wind made visible,
attempting to contain-
Believe
they loom, as omens, but do not stop
or look back while perpetually
moving forward,
breaking and forming again and again.
And all colors
are prismatic, it is we that assign
such meanings as
to stop or go.
Painting by Anna Lownes, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.
