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.