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Swirls of color leap,
and spiral; jump up
then down, movement fluid and
dripping. Liquid color pops
and pools around my feet.
The colors, at first, were mixed
a kaleidoscope dizzying, a cacophony
of beautiful sound, with each color
pinging a different frequency.
Everything I have known
prior is up for grabs.
Colors turn into shapes
surrounding my feet; now
rising, slowly. Circular waves, not
of sorrow or pain, which is unusual.
Instead, as this menagerie of color
sparkling, twinkling, igniting and
disturbing the night sky.
In this circular, wavy, pungent
juicy, smoke and ash,
explosions of pink, oranges reds.
liquify in the night sky, and surrounding me
I look down. At my chest, again, I look down,
marveling at what has happened
and what continues to happen.
As each pass, each circular movement
up the shell of my soul, the colors are activating
me, loosening my stiff body,
relaxing my mind to the point
of little resistance. And why would I?
Once again, I look down.
It is now, I can make out a few colors
distinctly. Some purple, iris, aubergine, thistle
sensations of wine—plums, grapes—
All jammy. Creme de Violette
purple, violet, candles deep in hue.
Burgundies, browns,
deep, sexy round shapes moving
up and up
until waves of energy hit me
I am trying to burn these memories of you
But the purple and lavender strands of your hair
bring me right back
still here
still blue
Until my head.
Yes.
My Head.
A whirl of colors
I’m pretending this is nothing
and trying to let the moment pass me by.
I am trying not to think of you
but the smell of the colors
surrounding my head
smell like flowers; deep and husky-voiced
announces itself, pops in my brain
and runs riot.
I am not myself, yet I am
I am reveling in the duality
of my rational and fantastical mind
The fantastical side, wild irises
blooming and growing madly, without care, without permission.
The rational side—screaming for creativity, for blooming, for desire.
Colors swirl, take shape, smell like perfume,
olfactory explosions, meeting cold Earth.
I am back. I am grounded
Almost lost, I made my way back
from the madness.
Colors separate.
There is no dichotomy here.
The swirling, shape shifting colors have
been my companions for many decades
And now I understand that this too is a power.
If the dark becomes my home,
I don’t have to run away.
Swirling colors will always keep
me safe.
