A Way of Black
I've never been
to a funeral
until today.
I see
dazzling arrangements of
red, yellow, and purple flowers
with long, green stems.
I see
a stained-glass window with
a white dove,
a yellow sun,
a blue sky.
I see
a gold cross,
standing tall,
shiny,
brilliant.
And I see
black.
Black dresses.
Black pants.
Black shoes.
Black bibles.
Black is my favorite color.
Jackson asked me about it one time.
"Ava, why don't you like pink?
Or yellow?
Or blue?"
"I love black," I said.
"It suits me"
"I suit you," he said.
And then he kissed me.
I'm not so sure
I love black
anymore.
YOU ARE READING
I Heart You, You Haunt Me
PoésieAva can't see or touch him, unless she's dreaming. She can't hear his voice, except for the faint whispers in her mind. Jackson. The boy Ava thought she'd spend the rest of her life with. He's back from the dead, as proof that love truly knows no b...
