Drawing

I drew you last night

in multi-colors

on a blue textured paper,

thin but with tooth,

so the granite would stick

to your image.

Greens over blues,

golden sienna over brown,

colors upon colors

found their way onto paper.

But when it came time

to draw the heart of you,

my fingers found black.

They trembled as I touched

the paper and marred it

with your true color.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A note about this poem. It was to be a happy sexy sweet poem, but I overheard my father in a conversation with my Uncle Red tell him that "<Name withheld> will show his true colors one day." Uncle Red jokingly asked him what was the person's true color. Dad said black.