Hellsinki
White: skin stretched across frail bones, tourist guidebooks, old scars, cocaine runoff, Chanel bleu aftershave, envelopes of DVDs, postcards, clean sketchbook pages, plastic bags in a folded pile, albatross feathers, needles on the floor of a Hesburger, the clink of a metal puzzle.
Pink: a faded photograph of the shop, fake flowers, glass dildos, lip gloss, love for sale, twenty years ago, a fake neon heartagram, novelty gifts, welts, an embarrassed flush, uneven circulation, dried markers, healing scars, hand soap.
Purple: V, a faded HIM poster, handcuffs lined with fur, ribbon, candles, washed-up legends, the royal you, concert lights, rows of vibrator boxes, tasteless cartoons, black eyes, chasing fame, a pencil case, rockstar status, a tip of a hat.
Blue: his pride for his sons, J, the lake in winter, Photoshop effects, worn dictionaries, Donald Duck, 3AM light, frozen windows, reflected sky, maps of the world, new jeans, bruises, a crying inner child, a feathered tattoo from fifty years ago.
Green: utility vest, an army uniform, the trees in spring, the tram, menthols, hurried conversations in foreign languages, Christmas lights, a father figure, gift wrapping, travel cards, a faded heartagram sign, broken beer bottles, herbs, spruce trees, weeds by the train tracks, graffiti.
Yellow: Apartment walls, a taxi from 1972, the sun on a friend’s face, the glow from an old lightbulb, post-its, English lessons, sunglasses, a warning, fear of leaving, government-regulated warning stickers, flowers on a grave, mailing envelopes.
Orange: the metro, Old Bay and peanuts, dyed hair, sale tags, postage to far-away friends, a concert ticket, glow from a cigarette, broken pots, spray adhesive, turpentine, Russian language, a desperate phone call at 4AM, newspaper advert scraps, push pins, fake tanner, a lame joke that makes you laugh anyway.
Red: permanent markers, cranberry alcohol, the couches at the bar, a wrinkled bandanna, garters, angry scratches, cheap costume skirts, fire trucks, the edges of the mirrored walls, boxing gloves, the Ex, her sweater, bleeding cracks in skin, vintage posters, used lipstick, chipping nail polish, disgusting pasta.
Brown: New shoes, coffee with milk like he likes it, a dead man in the dirt, a family secret, faded papers, the smell of something burning, wooden shelves full of books, makeshift objects, cardboard scraps, ratty wigs, patchy tile, a goodbye hug.
Black: Smudged eyeliner, an old top hat, a man dead on the sauna while the rocks char his flesh, laundry day, shop hoodies, worn-out jeans, shoe polish, a broken promise, empty smiles, fallen angels, cheating, a fake identity that nobody believes but him, a dying baby bird.