The city basked in the mild yellow of the December sun-
Had a story to tell with each of its shady turn.
We walked hand in hand-through the sleepy lanes,
As the sun drew patterns of love down our backs-
We talked of our lives-their whites and blacks.
We painted the grey town with the bloody red of our hearts,
We saw our faces glow with the burnt red ecstasy-
We set forth the beginning of our blue fantasy.
The day turned violet and the maroon hour turned wet-
We painted the town back to its grey,
So that the world wouldn’t know of the unnamed hour-
When our souls met.