I lost my voice at the opera house, 
Gave it away to the beauty in blue.
I watched it swirl and shift 
With every crescendo she sang. 
I didn’t mean to give it away,
But when my jaw fell, listening to 
The passion that caused her chest to rise 
And fall with every new note, 
I tried to grab at my voice as it floated
Away, but I was too late. 

My voice was now a color, bursting 
In the sea of colors, surrounding 
Everyone in the audience, cascading 
Out of the woman in front. 
 Trails of burgundy glistened as 
The stage light hit the smallest 
Parts of my voice, making them 
bounce on the 
purples, pinks, yellows, and greens 
of every 	unheard voice. 

For a moment, 
I thought she heard them. Every sniffle, 
Sob, silence that filled the memories 
of the audience. She had taken our 
voices, but this wasn’t the first time 
I watched my voice leave me. 
 
The small blue flowers 
tucked into the 
Patterns of her dress, danced 
lightly to the same melody that 
encapsulated the room, and 
she paused
Just for a moment, before sweeping 
The dancing flowers off her dress. She stood tall, 
Her chest rising, and her once blue dress 
Became white. 

 There was a moment
Of silence, before she sang again, 
That she reached her arms out for stability 
Grasping at the colors of our voices 
That surrounded her. She grabbed at the little 
ribbons of color, feeling the 
Power of our voices, balancing herself. With a new footing, she 
tightened her grip, and  
threw our voices down
as she sang the highest note in 
her performance. 

The ribbons of our voices, splashed 
Across her white dress, 
Creating a new masterpiece. 
The same swirls of color, found 
New shapes and patterns 
That embroidered every inch of 
The canvas she had made. 

The final note rang out
And the beauty dressed in different hues
Smiled, pushing the threads of color
Back towards the audience.
With warm color and strength, our voices
 filled every broken crevasse, 
reminding us to 
speak.