Yellow / red

By ALI ZILDJIAN

Yellow

The first words and last loves. A rotted tree with marks we dreamed came from butter-
yellow bears with red shirts that hide in the woods around and sleep next to us in our
beds. The sun after the storms where we emerge, a little surprised to see the bright yel-
low horizon after a grey-black sky tried to steal our breath and still our hearts. Grassy
clearings with rocks to sit upon and hot concrete with eyes stinging from flashing
windows. We stay warm and safe, gold streaks in our hair and sunsets where "you'll
remember me when the west wind moves among the fields of barley..." with straw-
berry streaks in the sky we sleep on lemonade sheets with sweet and sour dreams.

Red

You launch yourself across the room and coral meets ruby as lips collide with the
taste of wine still on the tongue. A perfect lipstick stain on your neck marks you as
a wanted man as you walk through the halls of this dorm, your cheeks flushing with
a blush when two passers-by comment on it. My tights are maroon and the soles
of your shoes match the red laces that snapped in the white of winter. The roses
you'll never send are darker than the polish on my nails as our hands intertwine
because we are okay, we are fine, we just have to hold on to that red thread because
my suitcase is packed and I have just enough time to say "hello" before "goodbye."