there’ll be time for that later

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there’ll be time for that later

she began noticing everything
in her world was manilla-
colored. her skin had turned
manilla, the bare mattress on
sheet-changing days… manilla.
the very air filling that room.
yes, manilla. if her life
resembled anything at all, and
perhaps there are more
appropriate words for colors
seen and unseen, but i tell you–
it was every molecule, manilla.

the grainy
the slick
it all tasted the same

she contemplated gold,
soft light,
water shadows,
lampshades.
there is no sound
to manilla

all the laundry turned this color
all the lids
all the unwashed hands
and corners
and every
broken
thing

–Michele McDannold 7/25/14
published at Rusty Truck Press

Danae by Gustav Klimt

Danae by Gustav Klimt

and then she let go of it all

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