Passionate Color

“Passionate Color” by Alex Lindsley (Inspired by “Floral Masquerade” by Mikali Jones) Their song. Our song. Them, marshmallow and fruity drinks, roaring wind. Us, dust devils, whiskey, and mildew. That, lime pie and honeycomb, a warm hand on a shoulder. This, a cool touch to the back of the hand, stale blueberry pie and bottom-of-the-bag fries. Can you define happiness? Because they did. All the negative space - tiger lillies wrapped around their own petals - flickering foam flicking flecks of godly golden something they never felt the need to spread. But we did. Over on this side, we are the matte board. We are heavier, drowning in our celebration, while theirs props them up - on waving-arm tides, orange skin and pink nails, bright yellow hair and purple shorts. They understand color. And monochromatic is a name printed on the inside of all of our shirts. Don’t be so f*cking proud of it. We cannot hear their song. Their song we cannot hear and it is a tragedy if ever I have tasted one; earthy peppers, lemon pips, maple syrup, cigarette ashes. Screeching violins where at the end all the bows snap. Snap. We cannot hear their song.