Invisible Rainbow

RED.

“The gays ruin God’s rainbow!”

Cashier said with tears in her voice.

I am the blistering, RED hatred she sees.

ORANGE.

”Marrying you is the single, greatest honor of my life.”

Man to his new husband as they took their first dance.

I am the distant ORANGE sunset seated alone in a cold metal folding chair.

YELLOW.

”No one over 30. Old guys get in the grave!”

College boi posts in his hookup profile.

I am the brown, withered sunflower that was for a moment tall, vibrant, and nearly brilliant YELLOW.

GREEN.

”I’m in love with your mind...just not your body...Sorry”

He said before he walked away.

I am the obscenely GREEN grass that held my feet on the earth.

BLUE.

”I really love you but disagree with what you do.”

Friend said as she loved the sinner but not the sin.

I am the blessed BLUE heavens that block her view of God.

INDIGO:

”We march to demand inclusivity, tolerance, and acceptance!”

Gay activist said to the herd.

I am the space between BLUE and VIOLET not ”muscle” not “bear” not “daddy” not “twink” not “hot” not “gen” not “leather” not “jock” not “masc” not “fem.” Catywompus...INDIGO.

VIOLET:

(silence.)

I am the VIOLET bruise left by so much insistent silence.

I am an invisible rainbow.