My Colors, My Love

The epitome of contrived

And all that is false

And materialistic

We matched on Tinder

The pink in her cheeks

Matched the pink in my hair

I swiped

“Hi cutie”

Tell me, where else do you find

lesbians in a pandemic?

Like the start of a bad joke

it wasn’t supposed to go anywhere

After texting a bit, we met "irl"

Such COVID-timed dates

left us fated

to court outdoors

Masks up, hands down

and kept to ourselves

What was left to do but

to gaze into those baby blues

So while we matched

in the belly of artifice

we fell in love

exclusively

under the stars

hugging winter gray trees

instead of each other

babbling on the beach

while cerulean waves

threatened our stagnant forms

as we remained wrapped up in

sleeping bags on top of

sand and dog poop

Yeah, that last part

was an accident

But I showered and she didn’t leave me