colourless at 9pm

Paint me to be some derivation of exotic.

For space to live

In the blanks between my fingers

Like tooth gaps

On frowns, I am

Every color but my own.

Sparked up reds center my face but only enough to be seen

Through blushes bloomed just for you

It is what you make of me

String me up like new Christmas lights

And together we will celebrate,

Only individual moments 

Too many is implicative of permanence.

But I am only stars on too tight clenched eyelids

Existing for seconds, if that

A whole array of blue and silvers,

That fuzzy pattern we can never remember.