I choose not to be color blind, although
I hear, it’s the copacetic thing to do,
but why on this kaleidoscoping earth
should I choose a limit, to what I see
and how I experience everything, swimming
in and through the fluid of this optic sea.
It’s a handicap, self-imposed righteousness—
The sphere is more than a monochrome, of
black and white, the in-betweens left cast
aside, the grays, the charcoals, nothing about
them is far from right or wrong, instead they
shade the world, applying filters to appreciate
another point of view, perspective, lighting—
in any light any color is not the same
being blind to one is blind to all.
Lose the handicap, free your eyes—
Instead I choose to don the rainbow, and
bask in its Technicolor glow, wrap myself
in its warmth, accessorized with my
charcoal scarf, hands gloved with a touch of
gray, white socks, black tie, all because I
saw the allure of not being color blind.
Don’t impose, a limit to,
the beauty, of humankind.
Originally published in the September, 2016, issue of Literary Arts Review Magazine.