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Chloe Dorf
When we found a way to capture color, did we think of what it would do?
Did we pause, poured above a completion of numbers and letters and sound, to relish the newness of reduction?
Did we consider, for the briefest, the quickest, the most passing of moments, the way the woman-girl would see her world?
When the girl–the woman–saw the peachy pink yellow of dusk,
(the mountain of the clouds, the stretch of the sky)
did we mean for her to wonder how she could contain it?
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Color to organize.
Color to number.
When the woman–the girl–studied the green-blue of the eastern ocean,
(the lull, the hiss, the water, deep, murky, muddled)
did we mean for her to want for, yearn for, hope for, a sequence of zeroes beneath glass?
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0047b3
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095859
On the quietest of nights, when the girl-woman stares into the sheen of her reflection,
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(acned, pocked, dark with exhaustion and confusion and pain)
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do we mean for her to pray?
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For her simplification.
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Color to categorize.
Color to keep.
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Color to tame.
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Color to hold.
Chloe Dorf is a Senior at American University in Washington, D.C., in their last semester of Political Science and Creative Writing. They have been writing since the age of 10 and sharing their work for just as long, although this is the first formal submission to something outside of school that they have ever made. They are predominantly a fiction writer, usually focusing on comedy or character-focused works, but they have recently enjoyed working in poetry. Their poetry is drastically more abstract, dark, and fragmented, dealing with identity and internal conflict, as well as changing perceptions of the world and self.
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