Blueblack

The world appears as whole

As a color wheel feels complete

Until you close your eyes

And, for the first time,

Look at what exists beneath them.

Emblazoned luminosity,

As blue and blue

And as black as black,

Impossibly bright and dark at once,

Yet as clear and undeniable as color itself.

Why don’t we name this color

When it exists within all of us?

Is it because we haven’t looked,

Or because we refuse to see

Beyond our narrow, self-inflicted limits?

Why must we dilute the uncategorical

Into limited subsets,

Splitting stark dualities

Into stripped singulars or blended byproducts,

Obscuring their true form in the name of taxonomy?

Why can’t I exist as bright as day

And as dark as night,

Wholly both without sacrifice,

Rather than live in a sunset's liminality -

Still beautiful, yet defined by the seeping mixture of many?

Why do I crave holistic duality

And reject all compromise to it?

Am I the only one who has seen it

Burn bright beneath my eyes,

Or am I the only one drawn to its beauty?

If no one else is drawn to it,

Why does it compel me

And me alone?

If no one else sees it,

Why did I close my eyes and look?