3:19 pm / 23.01.05
while unfurnished children may be yet unblemished
we all still walk the same
our heads are color boxes
flowing from the words we see
perfect yellows from your mouth when you speak.
we all stagger the same
flicking red off our tongues
imagine a dove imagine your guns
seeing colors through the tight woven air.
we all die the same.
cry with the furies behind our eyes.
focus on the colors.
feel the way they move you
feel them in your feet.
free them from the blacks and reds
free your colors how to glow
free the dove and color yourself in white.