Divas' Intelligentsia

Why are my tears so colourless?
I imagine that tears of joy would be like a rainbow.
Or Joseph's coat of many colours,
their brightness smeared by joy.

Despair would be black.
A paint mixed with too much water
or mascara stains.

What colour for contentment?
Would it be the same as ambivalence?
Perhaps soothing blue,
for the constancy of the sky.

Lying in my hired bed
in a backwards town.
Thinking of
the warmness of your skin.
How your smell stains my sheets.
The sounds you make as I touch you.

Remembering, I cry.
Wondering what colour my pillow will be when I wake.
I've cried so many times over you,
the blackness of my tears surely must diminish.
Their palette distilled.

But they haven't,
their despair is still shocking.
Again, leaving me black and blue.