Of colors

The day and night shine brightly as a prism of shades dancing in my line of sight.

Like computer screen static, or pixie dream girl manic, a rainbow flitters on a canvas black and white.

White and black, two polar opposites, one not allowing the other to sit, in the same sphere, in the same range, don't you ever think it's strange?

A myriad of shades falling between the lines, yet forced to choose just one stark side.

Little room for feelings to hide: oscillating shame and pride.

Yet when we take a closer look, one can then begin to unhook, from the heads-or-tails dichotomy, for both sides of a coin are copper and green.

And in their seams they share the dirt, they share the wear and tear that flirt with the integrity of the cylinder, each side akin to its mirror.

Reds and greens believe that they are different shades yet play on the same team of rainbows brightly gleaming: everything is not what it seems.

It seems to me that black and white are two sides of a single plight.

In the deepest of valleys and tallest of heights: a rainbow of colors is born to unite.