All day I have been searching
for the colour yellow.
Yellow like spring flowers scattered
across parks to be crushed
by children and dogs overwhelmed by the joy
of living. Yellow like leaves giving
themselves over to gravity, then decay. Yellow
like dehydration. Like piss and bile’s
burning hunger. Yellow like the sun’s
scream at midday—the way she blares
from above, threatening blindness
and exhaustion with unforgiving
rage. Yellow like cafeterias of broken
eggs, beaten to blobs. Yellow like hope,
like my favourite jumpsuit, canola fields,
like daisies, like corn ripe for harvest.
Yellow like this day promises
to get better—if only
I could taste more yellow.
Melissa Sussens is a queer veterinarian and poet. She placed 2nd in the 2020 New Contrast National Poetry Prize and her work has appeared in many publications including Isele Magazine, Kissing Dynamite and SFWP Quarterly. Her debut collection, Slaughterhouse, will be published by Karavan Press in 2022. Find her at www.melissasussens.com and on Instagram and Twitter @melissasussens. She lives in Cape Town with her spouse and their two dogs.