Fugue

Updated: Nov 5, 2019

by Tory Loux '17 (Originally published May 10th, 2017)

Mapped matter

dotted through heart strings,

tripping out a symphony

busy with color.

A girl was

frozen like red

and then:

Thawed blue like dew

on morning grass,

maroon

from Pennsylvania mountains,

reaching with rosined fingertips.

I am not angry

anymore.

This red

remains.

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