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Sept 14, 2022


Daphne Shawn

You might get the blues, some ocean-tinged fever

Turn red, vermillion smearing over bulging cheeks

Be labeled black or white, crude delineations 

Burn green with envy, pen purple prose, fade solemnly into a grayish fog

But have you considered or even tried to yellow?

Unfurling your light over the horizon

Whispering to a morning, sticky with pollen and pulse and promise?

Have you spilled saffron from your soul, tales from your tongue?

Met grief with swiveled hip

And sorrow with a soulful symphony?

Crumpled slurs inside old newspaper, searing them with your defiant fire?

Them other colors are something to have, hold, wear, drown yourself in

But over here, yellow is what we be, what we do, how we forget and how we fight

That poisonous politic and lurking predation

Those fetid phantoms hungry to slice our souls

Instead of catching that color, collapsing in a puddle

We yellow our way through

Scratching, singing, screaming, sashaying

Wielding the heat of the sun and the spirit of the Sirens

‘til even Despair has to squash his cigarette and smirk in awe at the audacity

Daphne Shawn was born in the Carolinas where she lived with her parents and younger brother. Ballet lessons, music lessons, and camping filled her earliest days. But once enrolled in her first poetry class, she was drawn to the power of storytelling. Now residing in NYC, Daphne writes short stories, screenplays, and music. When she’s not spending time with her friends and family, you can almost always find her cavorting in nature with the tree fairies. Website: Twitter: @dbshawn IG: @dbshawn


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