no 11

Whose reflected sensations on the eyes

Will color my face, a blush.

With flushed and heavy sighs

Smothered visions then forced to hush.

Those focused sharp pantone boys

Against the monochrome droll

Caused those Pollock's on the wall

Then switched to Rothko's on the floor.

Strobing sundog panting light

So bright the fenced in world constricts.

Arms raised up with eyelids tight

And can't be won w/o their fists.

That tone of radiance and godlike fear

Beams in harsh and sobering.

That tone of wavelengths and red-washed endings

Burst forth from Ethel's lungs for me.

I walk on iridescent foot paths

Worn down by volatile refractions

Pharos guides w/ Aphrodite by my side

I am whole w/o retractions.