I have often tried to write about love
with a blue or black pen
Today I try with a teal one
the color of the Caribbean sea
like the waters I have long wished to live in
she is crisp, perfectly clean, clear
paradise splashed with an abandoned spirit on
white water pages, salty scented

I am a romantic fighting against my purpose
with these black and blue pens
too generic for the love I possess
for this life
and her
fighting with ordinary colors
and because I see flavors no other human
is able to conceive of,
my ink must be of these same impossible hues

The seat across from me
in this cafe in a medieval square
is now gone, occupied by a family
while I sat there alone fighting for a sense of freedom
scratching surface reality onto a page
with dried up black ink

but I know better now
my color is different…
I realize that now

I push the button on false independence
because I know love now
I put away the drab colored utensils
because I know love now
Pull out the aqua dream creator
because I know love now
and word by word
I become alive again

 

af