I want you to turn me to the color of is
I want you to slice the apples
Falling from my mouth
I want you to lighten the burden
To change the burden’s color—we are both inept
But we can whiten
I want you to turn to me the color of ribs
I don’t know what any of this is but I recognize the color
Which floats
Towards the knife’s wrists
Until I quieten
I want you to chill me to the time of yes
To halt the color’s degradation
I want you to tell me
You want to turn me to the color of a cylinder
Written by Indigo Gabriel.
Photo by Vino Li.