Orange is the color of wish fulfilment.
Yellow of laughter.
you must be taught to like the prettiness of Pink.its not easy.
Blue tends to hold on to forgotten loss. in soft tinges that dab the fringes. But purple struts proudly with remembered ones.
Stubbornness is the color of hot magenta. Sequined with faux stones and egos.
Contentment is chocolatey. not dark or milky. not cloyingly sweet. or delectably bitter. Somewhere in the middle where comfort sits.
Comfort is petrichor earthiness. Ochre.
Surprise is sometimes cyan, often lime. On warm evenings, it is amber.
Green is the arrow that pierces boredom. India green.
Boredom would be the sliminess of stagnant water.mossy and fungal.acid green laced with brackish spots of scratchy arsenic.
Security is the maroon pallu of mother's sari in which you hid from prying eyes and over eager but insincere kisses.
Mauve is gratitude sprouting especially in spring.
Humility wraps itself in peach.
Famished egos are the color of power. Nothing says power like black, except in the real world.
Hunger is dust.
Pain reduced over the auburn flames of rage turns burgundy. Dark. Viscous. Sluggish.
Sepia tones inhabit warmth.
Freedom is the color of simmering embers fanned to life.
Hope is now off white. Over use seems to have dulled it. On foggy winter mornings, off white also clings to despair.
Acceptance is the color of your skin and orientation.
Resignation is the color of the neighbourhood aunty's face when i tell her about us. Mixed with crimson consternation.
Control is the color of delusion.
Colorless crystalline dreams glisten in the black canvas of forbidden love. Loneliness.
Dredging out the palette, life
is the dregs of penultimate breaths.
And in one fell swoop, all is the color of silence.
Yellow of laughter.
you must be taught to like the prettiness of Pink.its not easy.
Blue tends to hold on to forgotten loss. in soft tinges that dab the fringes. But purple struts proudly with remembered ones.
Stubbornness is the color of hot magenta. Sequined with faux stones and egos.
Contentment is chocolatey. not dark or milky. not cloyingly sweet. or delectably bitter. Somewhere in the middle where comfort sits.
Comfort is petrichor earthiness. Ochre.
Surprise is sometimes cyan, often lime. On warm evenings, it is amber.
Green is the arrow that pierces boredom. India green.
Boredom would be the sliminess of stagnant water.mossy and fungal.acid green laced with brackish spots of scratchy arsenic.
Security is the maroon pallu of mother's sari in which you hid from prying eyes and over eager but insincere kisses.
Mauve is gratitude sprouting especially in spring.
Humility wraps itself in peach.
Famished egos are the color of power. Nothing says power like black, except in the real world.
Hunger is dust.
Pain reduced over the auburn flames of rage turns burgundy. Dark. Viscous. Sluggish.
Sepia tones inhabit warmth.
Freedom is the color of simmering embers fanned to life.
Hope is now off white. Over use seems to have dulled it. On foggy winter mornings, off white also clings to despair.
Acceptance is the color of your skin and orientation.
Resignation is the color of the neighbourhood aunty's face when i tell her about us. Mixed with crimson consternation.
Control is the color of delusion.
Colorless crystalline dreams glisten in the black canvas of forbidden love. Loneliness.
Dredging out the palette, life
is the dregs of penultimate breaths.
And in one fell swoop, all is the color of silence.
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