The Vibrant Boundary of Color

Where weary blue caresses fleeing yellow,
it is no soft embrace, nor slow surrender,
but a taut nerve, a line that will not flee,
an unseen tremor that the heart has heard.

There pulses a world, without form or voice,
between two realms determined not to blend,
a thin line that resists and brightly glows,
keeper of secrets, ready to transcend.

It is the exact point where the eye grows confused,
a silent beat, an echo without weight,
the eternal meeting that never dissolves or fused,
a suspended soul, a pulse understood.