I was inside a world of black and white.
When you took my hand
and led me up the hill.
Where you said the rainbow lived.
I stood at the edge
until the rock bore the imprint of my blood.
It felt slippery
beneath my bruised feet,
but you’d promised you’d make your arms into a large wing
and your shoulders a shelter for my bones.
I grew in you.
I sensed colors.It was breathtaking.
I took my gasp of air from your exhales in my collarbones
and rested my weary hand in your sweaty palms.
My knees shook as I stepped to the margin.
to look into a garden of rosebushes
A photo of a future in a frame.
One you’d put on a nightstand
to be the last image before falling asleep.
And as I was looking down into the abyss
you removed your hand.