Rays still emanate up
As the sheet of sky spins slowly to the left
Spinning out from the light
A man came down from the mountain and looked into the light and said
‘I cannot see anything else by it, but the light itself is what I see’
Pressure pulses down onto the rolling orb catching a sliver of dark green yew
Clouds are cerebral and cerulean
She said membrane and I thought of a mass slowly turning
pushing up within the skull and squelching against the pia mater, or ‘gentle mother’
I thought of neural networks
A pathway is worn through the soft matter of the brain like a cheese wire cutting through an oyster
A sharp ejection of indigo spurts and French ultramarine
The blue hour has begun
We travelled by cable car to the island of the black Madonna
Later we sat in a cool whitewashed house eating the gorgeous fruit of the island
Yellow on the outside with squelching red flesh on the inside
And golden hairs
And with memories so painful that they cannot be spoken
Later we went to the chapel with the painting of the annunciation.
The virgin trembled whilst the angel’s wings grew to a great height.
All coloured in blended hues from lemon yellow through to gamboge to the finest pinks, golds and alizarin reds.
We made complicated shapes with our bodies on the floor
Whilst the light of God’s love shone upon us.
After the chapel we visited the gypsy cottages.
All white and squatting on the arid mountainside.
Men rode in, bareback, on huge horses.
We sipped our rum whilst the sun began to set.
The red hour had begun.
In what way is a colour complicated?
Whole parts of my brain are shut away only to be opened at great cost
There’s nothing there to nurture a mind
Absolute emptiness that kills off everything
She said a single voice
References to sounds
And three ribbons of yellow softening into two
I think of anthrax spores falling from the sky
Shedding their deadly payload on sun-bleached soil
But I can’t stand that kind of thing anymore, abjection and horror
I want to take shelter in your colours, Juliana
I want to fall into iridescence
The yellow hour has begun