La couleur de mes rêves
“Ceci est la couleur de mes rêves”
Or,
“This is the color of my dreams.”
Joan Miró’s dreams were blue
In 1925
Blue, rich, encompassing
And beautiful.
And my dreams
In 2016
They began and ended
With you
Only in different shades.
The beginning:
Yellow
Like that of the
Warm happy life-giving Sun
Found most often
In children’s coloring books.
Simple,
Straightforward.
Fitting enough
For all the light
And innocent childlike wonder
You make me see the world.
The end:
Yellow
Like that of the
Warm happy life-giving Sun
When after more than two decades,
I suddenly realized
I am queer
And I am in love with you.
Well then.
Less simple,
Less straight,
Forward.
Fitting enough,
I would think
Because isn’t that life
After all?
“Ceci est la couleur de mes rêves”
Or,
“This is the color of my dreams.”
My dreams were yellow
In 2016
Your nebulous, myriad yellows
That reflected to me all the light that I could see
And all the light that I could not.
Yellow.
Maybe you were the same shade to me
All along.
“Ceci est la couleur de mes rêves”
Or,
“Ceci is the color of my dreams,”
Beautiful
Beyond any singing of her.