The Color Black

I ask him his favorite color. Mine is blue. He tells me, "Black." I must have looked disconcerted, Because he hastens to explain- Not for a morbid reason... He just likes the color. I considered. Black is All the sharp and flat piano keys It's the soft darkness you savor Before subjecting yourself to The harsh brightness of morning It's the color of a kiss Because you always close your eyes It's my favorite dress, or printed words, or The clean line of an brushstroke on canvas Black is a silhouette against a sunset Or the deepened shadows before the dawn It's a night sky or a raven's wing The pureness of a pool of ink It's a storm cloud rolling in As the wind holds its breath Before shattering the sky Into a thousand pieces Edged in light It's the deepness of the sea At midnight Black is the soft curls of his hair. Black is his eyes, which shine... I decide black Is one of my favorite colors too.