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You never look at me,
Yet I've memorised all of your face,
the freckles, the shapes and the curls.
Do you know that hurts the most?
I don't know what color your eyes are,
Or will I never know.
Do you know how it feels like to never recognize any of the colours?
People have been speaking about them,
how the sun is bright and yellow,
how seas have a unique tone of blue and sometimes they may seem green.
They also have been telling me that all I see is black and white.
How do they know?
Have they ever seen the world as I do?
Even if it's true,
All I see is black and white,
Oh, my darling, you're the white to my black.
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YOU ARE READING
White Memories of A Black Life
Poetry"I have never tasted the brightness of yellow, the calmness of blue, the cheer of green or the love of red. I felt something; still do I, but never related to colours. I only know the pureness of white and the mystery of black. Oh, and grey. For mos...
