our selves built up in thoughts, searching for a color in a color wheel
my color my color my cursor
my blushing, burning, pale, glowing skin, the blue of my eyes fading in and out
captured and rendered into pigments and paint and pasts
our spirits painted into corners of pantones
daily doses of cortisol and glyphosate, wounds and lies dripping from petals
like stalks and husks asking “where is my color?” in the infinite shades and hues
it’s all spun together now, glitchy and blurring, buzzing, sneezing, smiling, crying
word and thought and action, my bees, your pollen
thumbs flicking faces in boxes across tiny glowing screens, flicking cigarettes out into streets
it’s all rolled together now, fucked and brilliant, laughing
dreams and ashes
purple carved away from orange, love carved away from pain
we paint our color even darker, grasp our thoughts even tighter
but the bees never come back
we flick our eyes like cursors looking for perfection
flick our faces like plastic flowers out into the streets
as if we don’t need bees for honey
if we could be like bees flying in and out of each other’s eyes
to what’s blazing, vulnerable, beautiful, and true
heat flow 