He asked me to write about rainbows.
Rainbows? I asked, more with my eyebrow than my mouth.
Rainbows. He replied, with his smiling eyes and his teasing smirk.
As if I could write about that.
He knows the basics; how the rays of sun blaze through this thing called time and space,
crystalline matrix of earth bending quality.
How it splinters and moves out—
drawn from and against
each individual particle.
A display of wonder,
beyond any motive to contain it.
There is your rainbow, my love.
There, among the light
cast into the dark,
when it is received fully, absorbed exactly as it is,
and applied to a quality
that bends it just so
from solidarity into fluidity
from flux to flow,
this quality molds and tears and pulls and dances with the light it consumes,
swift as lightening
it shines its splintered gaze out
into the spirit I see
behind your eyes.
But you didn’t really mean for me to write about rainbows, did you?
What you really wanted me to do,
was to write about us.
Love elephant and want to go steady?
Editor: Catherine Monkman
Photo: Pixoto user George Lourake