Gentle colours and softness spills out of the cup when she stumbled. They trickle in and pool at her feet.
“What do they mean?”
I look down and examine them, trying to find the words. But they wouldn’t come. I couldn’t describe the meaning of reds, pinks, or whites any easier than I could tell you what blue, green and yellow taste like.
She dipped a finger in the mix and rub them on her tongue.
“It tastes like beauty, like love, like freedom.” She pulled my face to hers and kissed me to exchange the sensation she had acquired.
“You see?”
I wept for the beauty of the rainbow that started on the back of my teeth and arced down my throat, filling my stomach and filtering it clean of the black I’d held onto for so long.
“Kiss me again”, I whispered softly in her ear. She did.
(Source: mister-selfdestruct)
