Ekphrasis

The goddess of dawn creates polychromatic confusion in a world brought to life by radiation from the sun, our wellspring of death and rebirth. Within colors that fill all things otherwise limned in black (but never to those blessed with tetrachromacy), beauty resides for us in a treacherous realm: even the mantis shrimp can break glass, and drab moths spend their infancy aschromatic caterpillars of deadly toxicity. It’s a trade-off, you see, for to live in this world is to be gifted a passport to sensual delights and mind-altering pain, with one life form’s death allowing another to remain. If music is but perfume for the ears, color is a tease of duplicitous affection.