The Colours Exploded

The colours exploded

like a bomb

beneath the water,

and it all rained down

like an oil slick

refracting light

through a prism

of your own

creation.

Angry reds

and angry blues

and angry yellows

in various

combinations;

angry oranges

and angry greens

and angry violets,

like a pissed off poem

for Valentine’s Day.

It’s all the fun of flags

with twice the hassle,

backwards plans

to take a blank canvas

and plaster it handsome

with the colours you coughed,

hard to understand

like a cancer scan

or a pension plan,

fam.

When I dissolve

into molecules,

I might be a see-through green

on a computer screen

or a passionate red

that’s not right in the head

because nothing’s really

black and white

on the internet.

But baby

you can see my colours

when you can’t see

nothing else,

and anyway

I was born to be

a rainbow.

You can sing a rainbow too

if you’d like to join me.