Living color

There it was. The unearthly

visage,

as if it were a pulsing,

flowing tide —

as if it lived and breathed.

My eyes struggled to explain

the cosmic ray of light,

A coffee-stain upon my vision,

in ways my mind could grasp.

The image burned itself

into my retinas

so I could see it still

with every tiresome blink.

I became horribly aware

of the nature of color —

Amalgams of blinding lights

Existing at different frequencies

Being absorbed and reflected

endlessly.

What power, what exhaustion

our minds must be privy to

to process it all

so seamlessly?

What strength, then,

Must the color before me hold

To defy the human brain?