Love Child of Frida Kahlo and ROY G. BIV

Love child of Frida Kahlo and ROY G. BIV

Dear Frida,

If you “paint your own reality,” will you paint me, please, in blues, yellows and greens? I want to be primary and secondary and tertiary as teal and vermilion. You are vibrant violet sunsets on the bank of indigo rivers of ink washing over me. Will you be cool cups of blue water held in my hands, refreshing green pastures of my soul as the golden yellow glow of your spirit dances in ripples of the sun? Your burnt sienna orange embers linger like my red lips kissing envelopes sealed in memories of you. I see your painted heart, pressed like flowers left in books with stacks of the world weighing down on us both. You have covered me in acrylics as the art of your hand captures moments of time in still lifes that move off canvases. From a distance, you color me, twisting like kaleidoscopes in my mind, arranging brilliant, bold and bright hues of myself in petals of inspiration, as I walk the long brown roads of Mexico, looking for you.