these cubes
once filtered a palette of colors

first came the red; with it's burst for flair
once stuck out in it's prickly lead-scent hue
could perhaps describe the sweeping savagery

time sunk with orange; and it's passive-aggressiveness
the juiced nectar in it's luster
could have shown the tenacity of life

next came the yellow; and it's blighted caress
to a sun's daze gleaming off an evening shy
could have gleaned inwards to civilization

and what of the green; in it's primitive incense,
in it's smoldering moss,
could it once have shown what great strides flesh took

soon things went blue; with it's fluorescent tears
and it's rain of sweat,
could that have made a river and it's dam

concluding in indigo; in it's regal your majesty
the kings and the autocrats
could never fathom the future that was to come

which complexion would be poise if they could see the shades now?