We try to hide
against a white wall.
   Confused by the colours,
  surprisingly vivid,
 swirling up from under
our feet.
I feel the blindfolded eyes
 roam over our silhouettes,
cringe in the sunlight
  and reach for your hand.
A little stardust on our lips
but only poison words on theirs
  if they knew.
Shhhh, we whisper,
    secret, secret
but these new paintings
  scream bright
 for release.
Glancing over our shoulders
for a twin set of footprints,
 touching betrayal,
 brushing remorse.
Yet the colours explode
 into a landscape we cannot ingore,
  that we must explore with the daylight.
Animosity creeps 
in the shadows.
  What happens when the blindfolds are gone?
  When we stand as targets
  to face the torrent of bullets?
I couldn't bear
to bleed
again.