I took all the pigments of the green
and painted what is left
painted a void of green-red
and all for, need yellow.

That’s when the giggles sparkle
its lightning, cloud is her hair
yellow is red and green
and not no green and red.

The leaf has a place between 231 and 232
the pages that I last read when
she was leaving.
She stole my red and
I took all the pigments
carefully- of green
who else can??
I must have taken and
locked them at that corner
to pinch me when it rains
when diamonds shine on blades of grass that was
just like her,
eyes
wet and these leaves
as it changed hands.

How many petals a rose have
one curled up inside other
and together guarding moments
memories and all the wounds of all the loves
dried and wet.

So many books go into termites
roses turn stick on trees
this one still red
she had stolen the colors!!!!

I have the leaves white
iron rusts
fires burn and you misplace
and this is still wet, red
between pages
that I last read
when she was.