songs in the language of sight

lately one of my favorite colors is a dusty gray. perhaps a warm darkish gray, but with a touch of desaturated brown in it. it’s an odd color to have appeal to you, it seems. it almost begs to slip back and out of your notice. it’s unpretentious. humble. like soil…but without even the potentially unnerving vitality that fertile soil can have, all humming and rustling with spiders and worms and every other creature on the planet stuffing in a siphon or hand or set of open teeth to draw away nutrients of one type or another. a dusty gray…perhaps the color of sterile soil. or maybe the color of the outermost skin of a few drops of dried motor oil in the garage, dried in the sun for years and years and eroding into matter mist, there on the wood pane so rotted and dry it, too, is sifting into the wind.

one piece of clothing i have that is this color is an old, old nike tee. maybe once it was black. or dark brown. with a small, classy, green swoosh on the chest. in place of that swoosh is now a rip, which opens to reveal my chest for about a two inch area. i keep meaning to sew it up. it’s a lovely shirt. so warm, so full of affection for me. like a best friend that has been with me through many, many different episodes. through nights full of stars and laughter and vodka. with me through heartbreak in a small apartment. there, wating for me after a car accident on a long, winding road. there, every day, through christmases and rock concerts and bloody knees and nights full of big pans of lasagna. quiet all the while. not claiming anything from me. knows my shape better than anyone, maybe. a hand on your shoulder, reassuring.

the other piece of clothing i own that is almost this color is a new pair of hanes’ boxer briefs. these are a bit new to have the same feel as the shirt, and i doubt they’ll be around that long. shirts are tough. underwear are sort of fickle. they are only around for the good days and then they refuse to recognize you. and it’s time to go find a new pair. but they have that color. and they were instant favorites for that quality. the different is that they were bought in that color, while the shirt was worn for over a decade to arrive at that shade.

i like red, too. red is a favorite. so hot, so fierce, so high class, so stinking biological. the color of both blood and the rope that separates the lavish from the looky-lous. capes and flags. stab wounds and a parted mouth. cool flames and the highest belt before black. fire ants, red hots, painted nails, nipples.

i love green. i feel so alive in green. green, she is so kind. wise. calm. forgiving, healing green.

wearing blue i feel suave. and simple. dark blue makes me feel composed. clean and quiet and sober and solid.

black lends me its depth. there is an unwavering and ancient depth to black. there is a removed quality to it. an imposing feeling, a warm but featureless velocity.