I don’t know where the colors
go when the sun goes down at
night, or when the finite end will
come to open the spectrum
wide. I’m not a honeybee. I 
don’t glow ultraviolet like a
wolf.  I’m just me with my eyes
wide brown trying to find you,
trying to ask who you really are
behind all the light. I may
be burned for trying but my
questions burn anyway, 
through my life and the evening
and the same instance of 
opposites that have always 
held my attention.  Show me 
where the colors go, and take me 
there in the morning.