A Crush on Colours

(Its a mad mad mad poem dont ever ask me what made me write it starts from somewhere and ends somewhere else)
The music plays on, her eyes meet mine,
I am onto a fantasy, My Lady in Red,
A fantasy in red takes me higher,
Higher than cigarettes, pot, hash and weed ever could.

Just then I hear her say "My husband . . . . . ."
Pot, hash, cigarettes last, Fantasies dont.
I am back to where I began.

I take notice of the ballet dancer in her gracious whites,
Ah, the grace of the white enthralls my imagination,
Imaginations sure can run wild,
I had reached Marriage and a ring of sapphire.

I hear them clap and cheer,
I am slightly bewildered,
Back on stage, a little girl in white,
sways gracefully to the music.
"LIKE MOTHER, LIKE DAUGHTER" I hear them cheer,
Hopes be damned, another fantasy crashes down.

Iam out in the garden,
with the gypsies and the bonfire.
The fire had been lighted out,
Ashes remain to be blown away.
As the ashes swirl away thanks to the wind,
All that is left is a blank space, a void, an emptiness.

I close my eyes, all I can see is a single color,
Black, it seems to give me the unsoothing calm,

And there among the gypsies stands a lady in black,
Like a black hole, her aura pulls me to her.

Black is dark, Black is blank,
Black is evil, Black is calm,
Black is soothing, Black is a single color,
If Love is black, what else do you need.