The Colour Wheel

If it were up to me, this is how it would go:
Yellow would go with grey because it's like summer time on your tongue and in your heart, a bittersweet thing like cold rain or a goodbye kiss. Because when you see it, walking barefoot down a dusty road, in the sky at seven in the evening in July, as you drive closer towards a choking city or look through the naked trees, it reminds you that there are bigger things out there.
Green would go with purple because they good together, have a love like pixies and punks, fantasy and creation, all the richness of the imagination and the good, heavy feel of the bloody earth. Because they will shape the new world.
Blue and red would wind around each other like snakes, like two opposing arteries in those text book diagrams, one thrumming oxygen rich blood through your veins to the thunderous pulse of screeching music that scrapes at your belly, the other blue like your face when someone strangles you by your neck at the lockers at school and you laugh because you know you're friends would never kill you, not for real. Like two opposing forces of nature, fire and water, running with each other so fiercely it might all be a deadly game if it weren't for the intimacy.
And orange would go with black, like the sharp smatterings on those danger warning signs that call you closer anyways because nothing that bright could ever be so bad. Like a daring haircut or the walking the streets at night, the two would dance together like two people who just found each other and that was all they ever needed to know. And because we all could use a bit more fucking Halloween.
Fuck the colour wheel. Fuck its laws of complimentary and mixing. Let's break that god damn mould. Because any colour can rub backs with the others and we, too, can defend anyone's back. And we can be any colour complimentary we want. What say you?