Colour-Blind

By Kieran Daly, aged 18

Once we saw the sky

and shared sunsets over our lilac city

together.

Coiled in steel and brick

the streets were your son

fortified by angels in Sacramento.

From hickory harbours to the ruffians’ domain

your Merlot-stained lips met my cheeks.

Plums fuelled your gallantry,

Dionysus possessed us. Riot exuded passion.

Pallid flesh was seasoned with ecstasy.

I loved for the first time.

I was loved for the last time.

Lilac became feverish. As the harbour’s

crimson skies diluted into dullness,

everything was blue.

I don’t want to be a jester.

I want to be in love.

I want to carve my manifesto into your heart

again Chuck.

I want to rest my head on your chest as you

tell me about the future as you see it.

I want the angels to bring us plums at the

waterfront once more because

without you, I’m colour-blind.