Monday, January 26, 2015

Pink

Pink has stolen my soul.
Both times; empty, whole.
the texture of the stumbling block
the color of the cornerstone.

Pink from printers
Pink from heaven
Son of man
Walked with the pink

They bled from ancient paper cuts
He bound them.
A whiteout.
The old red, the new white.

Pink satin pants give me away.
I am beheaded.
If they mix my blood with white
I will be discovered again.

People stare
As they should
It is a color that is not easily hidden.
Empty, Whole

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