by Bel Finn
Red moon
What do colors mean anyway?
We perceive them as we choose
Black, white
Good, bad
We flip them
Interchange as necessary
Grey is the reality
Brightness fades with time
Memories lose their sheen and luster
The essence remains the same
I may not remember the blue of your eyes
when you are rotten, dead or otherwise gone
But they pierce me
And I will remember that
The red of your lips
Crimson with blood
and the flush of your skin
May be transient
But the longing will remain
The visuals may not stay long
But the picture I have of you
Is the way my hands see you in the dark
The way my heart sees you
With my eyes closed
The essence of you I will always remember
The way you lean close
and your warmth
Don't speak to me of the damned symbolism
of color, light and image
Get over here and heat me
That's what's important
back to front
thecrowdedhousehold@yahoo.com