Little Yellows and Kinds of Blue

Negatives known for
negligence of colour
and casting down others in most
unflattering shades;

my

sonic happy
place through
bad angles
pioneers
regurgitate.

Almost copy-and-paste,
it’s a prayer void of
faith that
bears repeating;

whatever search for meaning you
believe more
than meandering
is about the belief,
not the material ends.

That’s more on the plate than my
stomach can eye,
and staring at an inverse has
made me too numb
for surrender
to contend;

but for
as long as
you’re mine I’ll always
try to see the
world for its
intended
design,

little yellows and
kinds of blue
I have missed all these
years,

and never would have
seen if
not for
the optics of
love over
fear.

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