The Color of Romance

Romance is a color I’ve never seen.

Perhaps it rests on the wings of angels or

Trails behind the footsteps of ghosts,

Caught between the push and pull of

Maybe someday but

Maybe never.

It is the god of atheists,

The drug of the sober.

We watch it strut across our movie screens,

Face painted over like

A sexed up actress,

Bathed in rose colored light.

It is a rainbow,

A shimmering mirage,

And I can’t help but stumble towards it

Gladly.