“Why Can’t We Speak in Gradients?”

Why can’t we speak in gradients?

I asked after many breaths,

Seeming to see color surround another.

First blue, then yellow, I see mostly green and

bananas cream.

I never longed for just one color.

Sought them all.

Blushing in the ruby hues of the bathroom

Mirror, or the beneath a graceful growth of a leaf.

In the light of a moon monarch

Batting their lashes and dotted bobby wings

Or a hollering queen, or a peaceful queen, or a laughing queen, just walking home.

Or more like passing through a mirror,

No, a door. Can you see me in the light better?

A gradience follows more intimate

Scales. Like stepping home.

Like the gathering bank in a lower cove.