I’ve been staying awake all night wondering how I should tell you
Have you ever wondered whether each colour has a special sound?
Like if you could hear them speak?
My first girlfriend was lilac
She never stopped babbling about how depressed she was
How every night seemed like armageddon
And she could hear voices in the hallway to the kitchen
I convinced her everything was fine
She asked me how fine I still thought everything would be, the day I broke up with her
I proved her fears right. She never survived her fright
My mom is golden
She makes perfection look as easy as breathing
She reads the Bible more than priests even
My dad is amber even though he tries to fight it
My favourite high school teacher, Obi, was violet
I am brown
The shade of the earth, and the stones are my crown
But you, you are grey, or at least your face is
A mix of black and white
Your smile is confusing, because I see tears in your eyes
Your breasts are orange
They tell me how imperfect they are
Your eyes are yellow; no, you’re not jaundiced
Your belly is red
It screams danger
It draws back each time I try to kiss it, telling me to stay away
Your palm is green, green with envy
Your knees and elbows are indigo
Those are the only places I try to touch and you let me
You are beautiful
Not defined by the screams each colour on your skin shrieks
You make perfection look as easy as breathing
To a dead man
I see you as blue
The colour of the skies
And I want to be a pilot and fly all day
So I never leave your space
Let me inhale some of you
And keep my doctors in dilemma
Make them think I’m cyanotic
When the only medical condition I have, is my love for you.

4 thoughts on “Pilot

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