A poem about colors

I was going to enter this poem into a contest about colors; but the deeper I got, the more expensive it got. So, I'm sharing for free...

I am not pink,
No never pink.
It is frilly and frosty and everything I am not.
Unless I decide to be,
In the moments I choose to speak out.

I am not red.
No, never red.
It is blood, and violence, and control.
Unless it is the heart of my partner,
Cut from sugar paper and strung together with love.

I am not orange,
No never orange.
It is advertising, sales, and point of purchase displays.
Unless it is the tang that lingers on my fingers
Long after the segments and skin are gone.

I am not yellow,
No, never yellow.
It is glaring, insipid, and sour.
Unless it is the running of a creamy yolk,
Or the wood of my favorite pencil in motion.

I am not green,
No, never green.
It is garish, acidic, and ill.
Unless it is the stained glass canopy of leaves,
Shifting against the summer sun over my head.

I am not blue,
No, never blue.
It is sadness, and drowning, and tears.
Unless it is the sea meeting the sky,
Like lovers kept apart, touching just at the edges.

I am not purple,
No never purple.
It is loud and brash and in your face,
Unless it is the attitude I embrace
When I no longer care what you think.

I am none of these colors,
No, not me.
I am the colors in between,
The shades, the tints, the tones,
The rainbow of the spectrum gathered to form a greater good—
The greater me.

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