My hands are stained with color,
Dry because I’ve had to wash them repeatedly like a chore.
The colors distract me.
Purple drips from my hands and bleeds
on everything if I’m not cautious.
Blue floats like a thick mist of emotion
Blue for me is dark and light depending on time of day.
In the morning blue is shut out by closed curtains,
At night blue is drained from the sky by a hungry sun.
My arms are stained with colors,
The colors of beads—green, blue and yellow
And black and red and orange,
All saying joy.
I express myself through bright colors
Instead of yesterday’s darkness.
My heart is stained with colors.
The colors of the rainbow.
Orange standing for sexuality.
I dream of coy fish swimming
In a bayou of giant trailers on stilts
And people racing by
On makeshift lawnmowers and jet skies
While the fish swam through, not caring.
My brain is stained with colors.
It’s like a stained glass window.
of bright, resilient colors
Outlined by a thick, black confusion.
A jumbled mesh trying to make an image.
My soul is stained with colors.
Yellow and white like a small candle
Trying to shine bright
In too much wind
I keep shining though, getting bigger,
Making new colors,
waxes of unimaginable colors
a tie-dye mess drips from my soul spreading