By: Darrelyn L. Tutt

The color of meloncholy woke me.
A bruised blue sky laced with swollen green hues tinged with hints of gold and orange met my eye.
I slipped on an oversized button-up and slipped out the back door.
5:30 AM ...
Dew of grass and blade of green intersect my bare feet.
Immersing myself in a meloncholic kaleidoscope of vulnerable morning hue,
I lie down quietly and soak her in.
She absorbs herself into me instantly,
connecting body and soul harmoniously,
drawing me into an intoxicating blend of early morning dew and hue mingled effortlessly and simultaneously.
In and out ...
 Inhale and exhale.
Morning breath rushing into me.
Words dancing softly, suggestively, and rhythmically,
creatively arousing, stirring, and moving intimately.
The color of melancholy working her mysterious magic into me.
Sweet morning meloncholy.