December 12, 2012

Red are the puny painted lips
Of a Japanese geisha
A drop of virgin blood
On white sheets
Maroon are soldiers’ berets
And plush opera seats

Yellow is an outdoor party dress
Short, flair
And definitely strapless
Orange is orange as oranges from Voi
Violet is hot purple, an Indian sari

And blue is a clear cloudless sky
On a hot coastal afternoon
Silver is the moon
Or my stainless steel spoon
Gold are glimmering sequins
Or the streets of heaven
In our fantasies

Brown is coffee
Or hands painted with henna
Dark chocolate, toffee
Or even spicy ginger

White, that’s paper
Untouched by writer’s ink
Babyish, female and fragile
That’s pink

Green is a vast stretch
Of rained on grassy field
Grey- ashes
Or smoky mist when the air’s chilled

And black is charcoal, tar
Greasy  gothic mascara
Or simply a moonless night
That’s filled with horror

Made of Sand
Not Dura, but Alaminadura

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