“How could he try to get Sandi to reveal her true colors when she was a rainbow?”

“She saw him fracture into rainbow colors through the prism of her love.”

“Indeed how might it be if things revealed their colors only when (in our terms) no light fell on them - if, for example, the sky were black? Could we not then say, only by black light do they appear to us in their full colors?”

“It was over. He knew, but she did not. He could tell by the way she nuzzled him, how her body relaxed in his embrace, how she sighed when he kissed the top of her head. She was still hopeful, he thought, and that made her beautiful. Suddenly he could not bear to imagine a life without her.”

“This man didn't sweeten his words to get to the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. Instead he rode the colorful rays at his own pace, made the sky his bitch and took everything he wanted when he was good and ready.”

“How can I fault her for trying to bury a truth that when exposed to air and sunlight could only hurt the ones she loves?”