Refraction

RED flushed his face and mine

when he kissed me, I flinched.

My hand grew heavier when he

held it.

I think his eyes were black but

I tried not to look.

I kept as much space between us

as I could.

ORANGE was the knot in my ribcage

that tangled when I met

a raven of a girl with

long dark hair who danced like falling leaves

the first time I thought about

what it might be like to kiss a girl.

YELLOW sunshine brought out her freckles

and her laugh floated up like bubbles,

popping above me and raining onto my skin.

She held my hand and my heart raced.

I watched scary movies so she’d wrap her arms

around me.

We kept each other safe but never found

love at the same time.

GREEN glass was in my first love’s eyes

and it shattered when I dove into them.

The shards left me scarred when

she found a boy 3 months later and called me

an experiment

and I wondered what made my love worth less

than his.

BLUE was the pang in my gut

the first time someone glared at

me and my girlfriend and

Every

Time

After.

It frames the edges of my sight,

Grows between our intertwined fingers,

and never really goes away.

PURPLE grew between my second love and I

with every mile,

a deep bruise that hurt

every time her name crossed my mind.

Our love fell apart like fabric

torn at the seams;

one thread caught

and pulled.

BLACK was my worst mistake,

I stumbled, lost in the dark,

Fighting shadows still stuck to my feet.

It took me a year to crawl out,

And the light was blinding.

My last love is colors I’ve never seen,

Indescribable and impossible to capture,

She’s the iridescent sweet sunset sky.

And as the stars pull their blankets

Over our heads,

white is the future we dream of.