Favorite Color Poem

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Favorite Color by Jay Davis Mom, I wish I knew your favorite color. The only one of God’s many crayons that gets you to sit up straighter. To unbraid your spine from a roach egg infested headboard. Your five children sit campfire cylinder style around playing guessing games about it. I bet it’s red Like a sea I’ve never seen But hear quite often in your voice late at night. If it is, I will strip my skin off my body. Bare crimson flesh. I’m sure you’d look at me more often If I was the color that makes you smile. But maybe it’s blue. A sky light shade that can only be achieved by swallowing the saltiest sea I will drown in the Pacific Ocean for a kiss on my corpse cheek because I often forget you have lips. Only reminded when the moon gets home before I do they bite. Sting like thunderclaps and you are oblivious to this. Tell me it’s black. I will have no problem with ripping out these weak strands of hair And stitching them to the left side of your chest So you can feel your pulse in my scalp. Except I know that you were never one to wade in the dark. The leaves white as my next option. If this is in fact your favorite color I will be forced to Novocain myself speechless. Pull my teeth one by one out of my mouth and into my palm Fist full of smiles that I usually only bless silence with. I have a low tolerance for pain But masochism would be worth it. You love on a gray scale. Like a schizophrenic paraplegic Is it because your seven siblings stripped the rainbow from your throat. Each draining a different color from the sky in your sound. A shaky squeak left in a scraped up voice box I can barely hear. I want you to know That there is Technicolor lining the insides of my elbows So hug me, mom. Pretend that you like me long enough to capture the ultraviolet in my flesh. Suffocate me Caved in shoulders and a rising

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