“Achromatic” by Claire Nist
You exist only in
Dim neutrals
And bright primaries--
In the blue of your cracked crystal eyes
And the heavy, creature smell of the sea
The dark twilight tone of your coat--
In the snow at the bottom of the mountain
And the sharp shark flash of your grin--
In the deep purple shade of our shared bruises
And the faded quilt your sister made you,
In a sky we never thought we’d get to see,
In a place we’d never dreamed of
When we were children
Turning our tongues lavender with popsicles--
In the red of my blood on your skin
And the flush of your cheeks in summer,
Glowing bright and healthy like mine never did.
In the apples you stole for me,
And the holly we would smell on neighbor’s wreaths at Christmas--
Green did not exist back then
And I cannot see it in you now,
I refuse to believe that you are
The coal-colored belching of smoke and ash,
The cheap black paint on a sniper’s scope,
The onyx of body armor that I cannot unbuckle,
The muzzle I cannot tear from your mouth.
You exist only in
Dim neutrals
And bright primaries--
In the blue of your cracked crystal eyes
And the heavy, creature smell of the sea
The dark twilight tone of your coat--
In the snow at the bottom of the mountain
And the sharp shark flash of your grin--
In the deep purple shade of our shared bruises
And the faded quilt your sister made you,
In a sky we never thought we’d get to see,
In a place we’d never dreamed of
When we were children
Turning our tongues lavender with popsicles--
In the red of my blood on your skin
And the flush of your cheeks in summer,
Glowing bright and healthy like mine never did.
In the apples you stole for me,
And the holly we would smell on neighbor’s wreaths at Christmas--
Green did not exist back then
And I cannot see it in you now,
I refuse to believe that you are
The coal-colored belching of smoke and ash,
The cheap black paint on a sniper’s scope,
The onyx of body armor that I cannot unbuckle,
The muzzle I cannot tear from your mouth.