Dayglo

Eyes

wet with violet smoke

press against cerulean

fingers searing

dayglo

like water

into our skin. Skeletons

sink into red rivers

eroding our bodies. Drowning

us in ash.

Fire splatters

the surface overhead—

fearful of what remains

alive—

Fire boils.

Orange steam rises

and carries heaviness—

desire spilling

yellow smoke

into our mouths—a mural

of ashen colors pressing

into us.

It reeks of flesh melting,

merging—comorbid

colors pooling

into a single body—alight

like lava.

We overflow.

Our rays flooding into fire

like rain,

cradling our burnt, ruined

bones—

a reminder that we endured

so we could arrive

alive. We emerge

alone,

drenched in colors, crying—

cerulean fingers pressed against

our wet, neon

eyes.