meditation on the rainbow

a lithe panther with a devilish wink,

dawning pleasure, sparkling at the brink --

this is what it means to be pink.

endless band-aids over the places you bled,

soft hands pulling apart a loaf of fresh bread --

this is what it means to be red.

flowers growing from the dropped syringe,

the floodgates open, no more in storage --

this is what it means to be orange.

a chestful of light, a drink warm and mellow,

tired smiles, empty plates, a glass of limoncello --

this is what it means to be yellow.

a crown of woven ivy for the forest queen,

laughing and tripping our way down the ravine --

this is what it means to be green.

rocking, stomping, heavy bass noise,

the hot press of bodies, neither girls nor boys --

this is what it means to be turquoise.

a peregrine diving in breathless corkscrew,

a heron raising its head, glistening deja vu --

this is what it means to be blue.

dripping wax and runes cast in a glowing circle,

love as a truth so painfully universal --

this is what it means to be purple.