Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Abe Abulaila Jun 2014
Your body is a blank canvas

That needs to be marked with my impression

To reconstruct your pure, red composition

And develop a purple as our colors clash; your red to my blue.

To encroach your sunshine with my ocean; my blue to your yellow

As we say goodbye to our colors, and say hello to this green that is mellow.

To bring my fire to your dandelion, and create a clockwork orange

I want to mark you with my dark paint, but only faintly, for I don’t want to taint thee

You brought your white to my black but strangely we did not end up grey.

We made each other brighter and this hue we shall stay.
Abe Abulaila Jan 2014
The glass patters in the darkest hours of the night

Exponential reverberations resemble that of a radical earthquake

Disrupting the peace; serenity.

The erratic patter splatters, exemplifying works of Jackson *******

A stain on the cloth of happiness, it spreads,

Disrupting the normal pattern degrading matter

Corroding, yet it creates.

Feeds, but it drowns.

Creates smiles, and forces frowns.

So simple, although complex

Dark patter.

— The End —