Fabric Synesthete

Fuchsia feels like silk, billowing, flowing, attacking my body with pleasure, on top of my skin but somehow, also, inside my soul.

Turquoise is confusing, like taffeta, but also, like taffeta, sturdy and easy to sew, to make, like Jessica McClintock in the 90s, an incredibly poofy prom dress.

Tangerine, tart, and smart, like a polyester spandex blend that can stretch your taste buds, skin buds moving anywhere they want, juicy, hydrated, like the surprise of a new kitten.

Yellow is screaming, loudly, like cotton with a polka-dotted print, and the volume is high and blinking, and it makes me feel brutal joy, happy, and I can't ever stop smiling and thinking in cartoon.

Grey, hey, you okay?, something that subtweets like sateen, faux-cozy and thick and stretchy, like a sad mood hugging anxiety, a night of Netflix in the dark but still, of course, work in the morning.

Kelly green is so legit, like a pump up song on the day of a big game, so direct and honest and you-can-do-it, and you-are-enough because you are, (do you know it?) like linoleum, rolling itself out on your grandma's kitchen floor.

White bright tulle that looks good from afar but is far from good, like the powder from the powdered donuts but not the donut, actually, just the outside, flakes, tasty, but no intention of having substance, the inhale before a sneeze that says never mind.

Red is waiting for me with her brutal love, a Scottish plaid, a Scottish accent, perfectly hard to understand so I move in to listen harder, and then feel the thumping of the drum in my chest, increasing, faster, louder, yes! Yes! Yes!

Cream, like contentment, is lace, it just is, dainty and beautiful, but someone else has fussed with it and so you just enjoy it with your eyes and feel serenity, and your fingers, as they touch it, well, for them, your fingers, it's not cream at all, is it?

Blue is when the emptiness or loneliness is heavy, crepe, weighted, the embrace you want when you're unsure of things or just feeling like you want to be turtled inside something warm and lasting, parents, or homeland, or anyone really, you trust.

Black is velvet and eternal and what you feel when you have done something important, like sip the first sip of your coffee, or tucked in your t-shirt to your jeans, or told the truth, or held your power, black, is resolve.