Yellow Memory

It was days before I stopped listening
to anything with colors.
It was not black. It was transparent.
And yellow it was.
Ostracized by the pallete.

Strange.
This universe, to have the hollow hearts.
To find someone so perfect,
and forgetting the universe.
And it hollows the heart.

Can we not say the word?
I bet on it. I knew the answer but,
I asked the table,
“Where’s my glass?”

But to be there.
Cheers for the mean ending.
Is a mix of green and red.
I see it from time to time.
These memories in vague colors of vividity.