Perception

4 kids, 3 fathers,

they span 12 years

We grew, surviving lives with

our mother’s eyes

Pooling iris and currents pulling

our identities into focus

Things weren’t perfect but

she loved us

Wanted to give more than

she got

Eyes

a genetic mutation

the colour blue

Smuggled through

genetics and centuries

Sailing

‘discovery’ voyages,

sometimes colour

claiming

cultures, pillaging melanin

Sometimes its story

is closer,

heard in the curve

of a seashell

This colour, lacks pigment

the ocean filters it

until it is all the eye can see

I spent years wadding

into sea,

our little bay

free from waves

Life isn’t the same

In the hard times

the colour of my heart

as I floated in the salt of grief

tears and sea

family is a gift

The colour of loss is

just part of the

gradient

inside of me

Holding a name is a privilege

Mum’s Revlon lipstick

smeared on my cheek–

she’s late for the nightshift

again

The colour of my formal dress

satin backless silk

my body a-flame

Red

the colour of

a woman hungry

or the force of

her rage

when boundaries are

crossed

reclaimed

My best friend

knows everything about the movies

She says

Truman Capote didn’t want

Audrey Hepburn

to play

Holly Golightly

He was wrong, I think

I must have watched it

100 times

Holly talks about

the mean reds

“You’re afraid,

but you don’t know what

you’re afraid of.”

A film can be a poem

or a melody

or a mountain

a moment of clarity

We are all afraid

Poetry and colour

are perception

a trick of the light shows what we

don’t see

can’t see

need to see

or makes us feel seen

Holly Golightly taught me that

We painted our house

buttercup, baby duck, filtered sun

New starts can be

hard to come by

Every time she started again

we would paint her house

It is easy to assume

die with prejudice caked inside

not knowing

what it takes to start over

How long it can take for the paint to dry

Learning is the centre

of a daisy,

laughter of a child

Nothing is more hopeful

than listening

letting compassion

spread across your chest

Learning to love

the other,

ourselves,

is yellow