The Color of Sound

I actually thought
ben harper was white
that both jack johnson & tom waits
were black
that sound came in color
as a child I thought
being in love
was like a piñata explosion
bursting with a sunset ride
with the prizes of life
trailing shortly behind
until that awkward age when
growing up was no longer fun,
I wanted to think there was still a knight for me
a fairy tale wedding, picket fences,
pitter-patters


At six I was gonna get big just to eat oreos
and nothing else, all day
I'm serious
I thought adults could do anything
I thought clouds might be made of cotton candy
and if I could find my way up there
I'd leave a disastrously sticky sweet mess of the world
and I could
and I have


I think of love, especially at sunset
when the sky is a confectioner's wetdream
on mountaintops I have felt clouds
slip through my fingertips
colorless, substance-less
this is the love I know


At eight I really thought there were fences
that separated states and countries- just like the maps
I still feel more european than american
& am fully aware I don't know
what either really means
but that it's tragic to only have one hometown
or to ask permission to travel my earth
those lines that I thought were fences,
really are there.


In the space between six and eight I grew a taste
that not everything is possible
I've spent most of my time here learning the rules
and the rest, imaging otherwise
clinging to love's promised fairytale
knowing the whole time that for me,
it does not exist.