How do you grasp a canvas in the finite span of a day? Like the faded shadow of a half-built Goddess, the fluffy red ripping the leaf of clouds in the middle of a sundown, the tiny ripples of smoked sky facing the contaminated river, the white on the sundial. The first of the month came with a sheet of double-coated colours, replenishing the colours of my mind. All the colours the rainbows have been putting aside. The human colours. The shades that bounce back on the brown skin, yet flow inside our duality. The colour of a frail laughter and the uniform of a vulgar traffic police. Could they ever go cheek by jowl? But today was about gathering the contented tinges on my palm to resettle them on another. The colours that stroked their own blues. First time blues. The colour that consumed its singular vulnerability to mate with other colours. Blue with yellow. Black with the beautiful blonde bride.
The unsuitable couples, they’d say.