at age 10
she would cry blue across the whole city.
tears of turquoise and cornflower.
sobs echoing like viridian in the alleys.
women would walk to work wearing sapphire skirts
and men with byzantine suits.
and, my dear, everything was blue.
at age 12
her bright cheeks reflected pink on the town.
smiles with bubblegum lips.
women walking through coral trees and rosewood paths
and men vending salmon and peaches.
so the magenta square was never empty.
and, oh, my dear, everything was pink.
at age 14
she went away
and her silence left the city in an absence of color.
cream clouds blocked the sky from view.
an unnatural hush fell with a blanket of eggshell snow.
women spoke with ivory whispers
and the men’s feet fell with china footsteps.
oh, my dear, everything was white, everything was white.
at age 16
she bled the whole city red from the wound in her heart.
stains of scarlet and cherry.
rusted crimson bicycles creaking with ruby groans.
women bought only burgundy lip gloss
and men fiddled with cardinal neckties.
and, my dear, my dear, everything was red.
at age 18
she freed the town with yellow happiness.
buttercup laughs echoed through the rooftops.
and sunflowers were lit on fire by the sun’s amber flames.
women carried golden butterscotch candies for the children
and men lived for the sunrise.
oh, my dear, my dear, everything was yellow.
- yellow is for wildflowers and happiness and all the things in between
c.g.