White
White
A celebratory color
representing all the positive things:
peace,
virginity kept,
a waving cloth of surrender.
A symbol of serenity,
white innocence and holiness.
The color that cloaks supremacists who govern prejudice,
and the white of aging hair as vitality
wastes away.
The color of powder that rimmed your nose,
dusted white like the headstones on a cold winter day.
The color of an addiction
that decayed the inner structure of your nose
and decayed the structure of your life.
The white that inflated your brain
with thoughts of what you wanted me to be.
A softened substance,
the color that dulls any hue.
The color that tore us apart
and into a whitened place;
sharp hallways and numerous series of rooms,
sanitized a Godly white,
and twisting into an indefinite vanishing point.
Drained of vitality and emotion,
absorbent white that swallows colors and life.
Your body lying upon stale bleached sheets
and bodies disguised beneath similar shrouds.
As visibility decreases in this snow storm
inside the white room,
your body, lies undisturbed by the monitors
that toll down our time.
Beneath the freshly laid snow blankets
now only your pale foot is visible
adorned with a tag,
a boarding pass for you
to leave this whitened haven.
As my feet crunch down on the snow,
my eyes squint to protect themselves
from sharp crystalline flakes.
Distressed and semi-blinded,
I am relieved to find your headstone,
glazed with fresh layers of white powder.
Copyright © Lauren Hill | Year Posted 2005
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