Colour Your World

A Poem by swiftswitchy

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The walls in my room are white.
Not white like Euro Linen or Swiss Coffee
Moonbeam Silk, Oriental Lily
Or Buttermilk.

No, there’s something off about the colour of these walls.
They are white like a still pool of spilled whiteout.
Deleted words an essay latent
In a blizzard of empty sheets
White, like light without heat.
A vacant refrigerator
Monochromatic static,
White noise frozen into monotone.
My walls are papered
With a flock of muted angels
Washed and ironed into two dimensions
Ascension is impossible in a
Floor to ceiling wall-to-wall
White Winter prison

I’m tired of this minimalist style.
I want to redecorate
White is so out the window this season,
open it and let the sunshine in
eddying around the four corners
of this cube, a river of yellow paint.

I want to decorate in the eclectic style
Tile the floor with beds of moss,
Toss the desk and install arabesques of birdsong
Paper the walls with sheets of water, falling
Like curtains in the breeze.
I’d like to plant a birch wood
With a finish of cherry blossoms
In that dead corner,
I’d like to dance on the ceiling
And take out that wall
And, come to think of it
That one, that one and that one too.
And watch these angels float away
Like origami cranes.