The Moya View

There Is a Disco Ball Shimmering



There is a Disco Ball shimmering
🌸
Pink on softened blood still wet with arrival—
dancing in the cradle of mother’s first touch—
both she and midwife weeping
in the baptism of first scream.
🍊
Orange in jitters across lunch trays,
school desks, scraped knees.
The ball tells him— “Learn from this”—
then spins away
when he shines too clever.
💜
Purple that aches on the letter never sent,
the one locked in the basement chest—
that song written in someone else’s key.
The light dares him— ‘confess”
but offers neither promise nor mercy.
🔴
Red flashes across his fists—
the medals, the doors slammed,
the apologies withheld.
Each time, the ball revolves faster—
every reflection looking heroic—
until it breaks.
🪙
Gold casts its wisdom
on tax forms, sermons, balanced meals.
He trims his beard to match the light’s edge,
recites warnings to no one—
and believes them.
🪨
Grey follows the foot dragging,
the shoulder slouched, all the borrowed laughs,
The ball slows its spin
but never stops.
He watches lime soda fizz—
then, forgets— what it tastes like.
🌌
White—
his absence, turned prism.
A final flash that folds the other colors into—
a sheet.
He turns beneath it—
again, once more—
no sound, no question—
only light—
returning to where it was born.

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