Day 21: “Yellow”


he offered me a fever

they could be ours, he said, those radiant months

it could be our summer

and I conceived its likeness, its brightness

alone enough to make my head ache

but my heart swelled and his was gold

and I couldn’t look away


his fingers would tremble wrapped around stems

of sunflowers behind his back

we’d sit by a lake, some place unacclaimed

until moonlight rode the ripples


we would drive home before we met cold

and the traffic signs we passed would glow

I would tug at the barricade tape ’round my chest

remembering the danger in hope


maybe his warmth was a warning

he made me so happy

and that’s why I was so hesitant


Day 20: “Shades”


I always had sensitive eyes.

I could see fine and well in fractions

but too much at once

made me dizzy with color.


I entered few rooms but my own

and when I passed through the doorway

the light switch remained unflipped.


when I drove home

in the passenger seat

with the sun hanging low

the visor stayed neatly tucked

against the roof of the car.

I didn’t want to disturb the air

so I just looked down

hoping for a quick ride.


I didn’t realize

I’ve been squinting all this time

but I’m not sure I’m ready

to see.