Yellow – Poetry Short Film

Yellow

They called you Solitude.
I would have called you Sol, my Sun,
and lit up your destiny with a name
that could warm the air
around the ore of your heart.

I would have kept all things black from you 
-	jet earrings, soot-faced poppies -
grown only marigolds in your garden, 
hung amber in your ears. 
I would have bought you a yellow dress 
to dance in, and flirt like sunlight
when it meets the river at dawn.

I would have saved you from the undertow
of horses, sold them all and shut the stables
so you would never set foot in a forge
or hear the melancholy ring of metal 
beating on hot metal, the sad song 
of submission to the solid.

Your name would have lit my path 
to your door so you would never be alone,
never have to set out on that long, parched
trek to the coast in search of yourself, 
finding only salt on your tongue.