FLYING COLOURS

every day she stood in her coloured studio
looking at  the colors coming down
and the plane she couldn't reach
leaving it with the presence of absence

with despair in every unused color
green fading to green then green
black to black then black
and the plane waiting for Van Gogh yellow

seeing the dreams she wanted to paint
she plucked the colors from the air
with the shadows on their enigma
falling to the blue painters flesh

slowly twirling to the eternal cracks and space
towards some slow chamber below
her skin feeling the sensations of  falling pigment
flying to a new colour field