Narrated by Lee Todd Lacks
Are you light yellow helium, like the call drinks they mix at this dubious lounge? A medicated fit of spontaneity, confessing the sins you have yet to commit. Or, are you xenon? Aquamarine beam, bright eyes of the police shaming dissolute streets. Are you krypton? Ghostly green in the jeweler’s window, like the aged merchant dealing jade and courtship, Or, radon lurking in a thousand dark basements?! For those wretched souls who knew you first, who saw your awful glow, could not have heeded your deep red warning. could not have broken your deadly tryst. Are you argon? Pale lavender blue, the only diner open this late, rainy night. Softly mystifying thrift store hue, suppressing all thought with hips and scent. Then, you must be neon, reddish-orange kiss groping in the doorway of some seamy motel. Wet locks give way to fingers and keys and hours and hours of singular bliss.
BIO: A mixed-media artist, music therapist, and clinical counselor, Lee Todd Lacks seeks to blur the distinctions between rants, chants, anecdotes, and anthems. His writing has appeared or is forthcoming in The Alembic, Tincture Journal, Latchkey Tales. and Clockwise Cat. He resides in South Portland, Maine, where he lives happily with his wife and young son.