this color is a shift, a flick of a switch. green is a gentle hug, a large, soft sweater. it marks the divide from warm colors to cool, loud to quiet, chaotic to tranquil. green is trees, blades of grass, stems of flowers; expansive plains and backyard gardens. it is a connection, a bridge through not only colors but life. it is their arms around your waist, their laugh melting into your shoulder, their smile pressed into your collarbone. without green, lines would be harsh and frowns sharp — a divide of yellow to blue, hot to cold. it is the color of kisses on foreheads, words murmured for you and them and no one else; the color of soft reassurances and softer eyes, lids fawning over them. green has the strength of thick vines and the delicacy of supine leaves, like lace over fingertips. it is cooling cups of tea in time with cooling tempers, those barely visible flecks in their eyes that you just can't stop meeting. it is finality and farewells, reunions and new beginnings. green is the color of growth.
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chromatism | a collection of shorts
Short Storywhat colors symbolize to me | not-quite one year later
