A group of friends
gushes to each other
about what their perfect,
dream-boat,
fairy-tale,
one true love looks like...
and I wonder
how they already know
both the hue and tint
of their lover's skin
how they have already seen
the shade of their pupils
or pigment of their lips.
How do they know
all of this
about their lovers,
when they've never even witnessed
the rusty laughs
or blushing cheeks
that compliment galaxies of freckles?
How dare you
skim your judging eyes
over the color of skin
and say I love you?
How dare you
talk about a type of person
as if they are a type of love?
As if they could have chosen their attributes,
like you pick
and choose
and change
the bread of your Subway sandwich.
How dare you
belittle someone
by sexualizing their colors
scowling at their colors
glamorizing their colors?
How dare you
call a potential lover,
"boring"
merely because you are
"tired of seeing their people" ?
Yet I don't suppose
you stop loving
to gaze
at the white light of your screen
against the purple night sky
just because you see it every day and
everywhere.
But if you only knew
one color
for your entire life
and I showed you the rainbow,
you would fall in love
with all the other colors too.
Yes,
all of the limitless,
endless combinations
and you would not
get tired of
diversity.
