Black and White in Reason

ex Diana

there is only black and white with you and i
in our reasoning—no grey or color; only is
and is not. no in between. between us
there are only trees severed from their roots
by hatchets, bows and arrows, the salty
ocean waters the whittle away the bark
and peel these might sycamores from the earth.
the earth is only black and white—the colors
in the sky blend and blend until only existence
and absence catch our eyes. between us
nothing reflects deadness like a greyscale solar system
cruising over us and leaving specks of black
to kiss our faces like drizzle in the early summer
months. our mouths feed on egg whites
and licorice; on angel food and black beans
while the cylindrical pillars hold up the Big Dipper
while her son lags behind, pulling sailors
from sultry tidal waves. around the block
logic stiffens like a naked bough in winter,
from which icicles catch their drops
and trickle down into our parched mouths
craving only color and a mixture of black
and white, pale and dark underneath
the caverns headlong in utter blackness.
hyacinths are pale; bloodlined roses pulse
with darkness about them. the lights are off
but only the blinding glare of the midautumn sun
keeps us awake. there is only black and white
with you and i in our reasoning—no grey, no color,
no logic with which to carry ourselves:
wrong is white and right is black—grey
is up for discussion.

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