vibrations

vibrations in the red
that I share with you,
from the first infrared
to the last one that hurries along,
deepening the hues
to distort the shadows,
and I know that with red I can be myself
and with red you can be too,
as if we could share, in an instant,
the same wavelength
of a receiver-emitter in tune,
of reds that can mix together
predicting each others’ footsteps.

but today you awaken in green
and I awaken in aquamarine
there, where fishes wriggle,
and seaweeds spiral,
but you insist upon green
the color of rain and wet ferns;
I insist once more with an aquamarine,
that makes us drift apart,
since, on the pillow,
two colors suddenly stumble.

but I do love your greenest green
with the morning coffee,
keeping my tea company,
which is more aquamarine,
even if we warm our milk together
in the same pan
and we withhold our colors
between the honey and the bread.

nevertheless, you and I know,
that deep down, there are so many colors,
and I cannot stay in aquamarine
when outside of me
the day reveals itself
and begins to dissolve my morning shades.

and yellow bursts forth,
without any glitter,
without infra-yellows or ultra-oranges,
perhaps brighter
that I can make it happen
in my most sunlit moments.

and look how foolish
it is to try to find you,
when I know you are somewhere in the red
and there is no orange
that can draw us near.

but I always escape, don’t worry,
and I will never get myself entangled
as I search once more
for vibrations in a more pleasant yellow,
so that they may subsist
while they exist
and they might even become warmth
perhaps even a friendly hand,
in case another yellow
is waiting on the same frequency,
since only one yellow vibrates
but two yellows radiate.

vibrations in my yellow
that I would like to share,
one day with you.