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