I am yellow
My friend Tara is Red.
Her eyes burn
with a furry which can also
elude the weak and the shy.
Classic and passionate
like the ruby in a Queen's
crown and the red of a cardinal she brings to shame
as she shines in the light.
Her love pierces your heart
as you begin to feel the warmth of your
blood
for the first real time all through
your body. A sense of fragile,
if there ever was a sense at all before her,
marks her
body as it would a young filly. Her lips,
the color of rage,
fill the room with laughter and comfort.
Blue wholly is Kyrsten. No, cerulean.
Graceful and calm as she balances the world
atop of her roughly contoured shoulders.
Follow the fish through her waters or
the deer through his forest
as she ttrodesinto her pasture
of fellow classmates. Smooth in action
and pleasant in talk you are surrounded
by her sheer presence. Make way
for the time honored and the wise as
we all stand in the aw, that of the
sea and the sky and gorgeous eyes of she her majesty.
Black. Men are black. Brown,
the diluted form of the testosterone.
The color of their muddy jerseys
and the smell of their eerie presence.
Hold back your hearts women
as they are lustfully cold and as unattached
as the cow ropes in their palms. Black hearts
made fools with white lies. Run away
girls as you only have a few number
of chances in this life. Men are black,
but maybe that is just me being yellow.
