Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I do not know the name of your colors, they all mate with each other and come out curiously, like priests heaving Bibles in that basketball façade your whites and pinks fit their sort of face. Yet it stirs some type of discomfort, also unidentifiable and costly – these hours, we are not. You cannot be when I cannot breathe another shade of blueberries, so fat and birthing their seeds. Resigned to their train-track coloring but dreamy, moonlike, thinking about nothing and being everything as tall as a steeple then as short as Communion glasses. Say these must be the violets, in the golden stems and grape heads found by a grass pit: just like your eyes! as if artificially placed inside, before you could only see in black and white. I do not know the name of your colors except by the weight of things, paper & plastic, bows & bird wings, these heavens I discover on your seams.
0
Nov 16, 2012
Nov 16, 2012 at 4:34 PM UTC
opal girl
I do not know the name of your colors, they all mate with each other and come out curiously, like priests heaving Bibles in that basketball façade your whites and pinks fit their sort of face. Yet it stirs some type of discomfort, also unidentifiable and costly – these hours, we are not. You cannot be when I cannot breathe another shade of blueberries, so fat and birthing their seeds. Resigned to their train-track coloring but dreamy, moonlike, thinking about nothing and being everything as tall as a steeple then as short as Communion glasses. Say these must be the violets, in the golden stems and grape heads found by a grass pit: just like your eyes! as if artificially placed inside, before you could only see in black and white. I do not know the name of your colors except by the weight of things, paper & plastic, bows & bird wings, these heavens I discover on your seams.
sarina
Written by
American
Nov 16, 2012
Nov 16, 2012 at 4:34 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem