This bridge called Rainbow…
If seven be the colors,
then seven is the color of your love.
If seven be the number of days
then my love for you is in seven ways.
I love you in Red
Even when red is assumed for danger.
then I am happily dangerously in love with thee
I am deconstructing the layers
Laying patterns that storage (city) love.
Orange, is how juicy your lips are.
Yellow is the sunshine that sits in your eyes
GREEN is who and what you are.
You lay a mat for both of us.
Embroidered in hues of lilies in valleys.
The tailor must have been one who sews for the Queen of England.
Who sews the dress for the rose flowers?
Must it be so that on so many days, He is confused on what to knit.
If the sky must be blue.
then on you, my love is that glued.
You’re speech, neither quick nor slow
But gentle to the ears.
And your tongue,
The gods bear me witness.
If seven be the number of days
The my love for you is in seven ways.
I love you on Monday.
Even when I am still hunger-over(ed) over the weekend deeds
When the wheel to love met the will to love
and the chill of doves above.
together with the feel of lover’s night groove.
Moved us gracefully to Eden.
Drove us as we created silhouettes so cherry and merry.
I love you on Tuesday.
Even when I know, It is this Bridge called rainbow that chose
the spark of love between the two of us,
Even when I know that Wednesday came
to erase the memories of us.
Wednesday came to write out story.
Tainted story, blistered sentences, bee-stinging words
Paragraphs stinking like burnt papers.
Incomplete story-disguised hyenas.
Thursday brought back the memories
Thursday wrote with us our story
Dressed in Indigo, Violet…
We scattered cushions, triplets of shimmering stars in pairs
Our love so rare
like this Bridge called Rainbow
The dis-rest brought on others by others is the reason I go black and White. I am A RAINBOW. I Rain 