And the colour wheel cranks out
its liturgy – oppositesÂ
make the best bedfellows,
draw out the richest blooming.
.
So too this heart, when double
crushed, rises atmospheric
to negate the blow. So tooÂ
this spirit, pinned to velvet
specimen case, dead carcass
to be pitied, inspected,
finds truest freedom within
its prison walls, flying high
above those who would take it
captive, coerce dignity,
boxing it in mere metal
and glass. Deepest pain reflects
truest beauty, once redeemed.
.
And the colour wheel cranks out
its curriculum – bluestÂ
skies display the purest gold.

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