We are tiny dreams clinging onto coloured feathers
and locked threads that writhe
at whiffs of whispers in the air.
We are renegade hearts who aren’t afraid of
We are inhibitions that refuse to be
restrained under reticulations.
We are shades that glide on white walls to paint them
coral, cranberry, turquoise, gold.
We are stuff dreamcatchers are afraid of.
(For women of colour who struggled against the webs of patriarchy only to redefine what the “dream” really is- today I am coloured in you.)