Wrapped in damp shades of grey,
the contours of this day
shift and move.
A blending of shape,
without edges or hue.
Behind these eyelids,
the enfusing warmth
of an imagined shoulder
beneath my cheek
is a drop of
saturated color.
Crimson,
expanding slowly
onto moistened paper -
It blossoms;
It spreads;
It becomes.
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1 comment:
This is lovely.
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