the true beauty of white

I like the color white
not the innocence of white flowers or angels
not the brilliance of wedding dresses or crisp fresh snow

No, I prefer deadly shades of white
bright light that painfully blinds you
white hot rage that fills you up from the inside out
the murderous white of waterfalls and whirlpools
the fur of a polar bear stained with a recent catch
the wall of an impenetrable snowstorm
the dead eyes of a deep sea fish
a familiar flash of white in the corner of your eye
shaped like the whisper of a ghost
I like white that’s beautiful because it’s terrifying
the kind that could caress you one moment
and kill you the next
the kind that reminds us how alive we are