If virtue has a color, it’s not white. Not that pale, all-reflecting non-hue, not that color of mourning. If virtue has a color, it’s the color of the life within us, dancing with every heartbeat. It’s the legacy of our ancestors, the gifts of our parents that we try to live up to. If virtue has a color, it’s an auspicious one. Red. Blood red.
Another poem, linking virtue and blood, written early in my process of writing this book.
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