trading colors

look into the reflection 

on a wet road,

the one right after the storm,

and tell me the colors you see.

find me and give me your blues,

and I’ll give you yellow flowers, 

neon lights,

and a purple-pink sky.

what happens if our colors start to mix?

like an oil spill on the road,

the pinks turn to greys,

the neon’s dull,

and you leave me right where you found me,

with every shade of blue.