The colour of my smile
isn’t the rosy red the fairytales
said it would be.
It’s smeared clear lipgloss
and the salty taste of tears.
It’s yellow, blue or every shade
breathing within a rainbow.
It’s pulled taut, barely shown
or the pearly-white gates on judgement day.
It’s good enough – rosy red or not.
It’s good enough
to be any colour I wish
my happiness to be.
In response to day 6: the colour of ______, #onceuponaseptember
Photograph & poem:© Kristiana Reed 2019