- Angelina Todaro
Coloring of My Youth
Loosely– my green-browning sneakers slipping off,
grasped by the umbering mud.
The scarlet tubed slide
reflecting on my cheeks,
along with the charcoaling pavement.
The marigolding sun, kissing my apricot skin.
A pearling droplet on my forehead
from tom-foolish play during free time.
Young lilacking blossoms,
lacking wisdom, wandering lost in streets.
Unworried, filled with bliss, committing no crime.
Their cherried knees
from falling in the emerald fields,
and cherry-ringed mouths
from their mindless indulgence.
Carefree from the unknowing leathering
they’ve to experience in their porcelain mind.
Those days inked into my memories,
now the affectionate sun does nothing but blind.
Face no longer roseing.
Smiles no longer pearling.
My knees no longer hibiscusing–
healed from my mother’s kiss.
The colorings of my youth have dulled
and my porcelain mind, ebonying.
Jealous of the ignorance that lulled,
aching for the homogeneous reveling.