She gapes at the sunshine.
Pixelized than clear;
Vividly shrouded by her psyche's
boisterous devils.


I once let my fingers trace
the wounds of her chakras -
soothing the palpitations and
uplifting them to their peak.


Her eyes meander to what seemed so bright.
Jaded.
What's in there?
Was there supposed to be light?


Black and white;
Yellows are dark so as the skies.
Only two colors exist.
Poor dejected mind.


Shapes after shapes
from what is already formed.
Undefined however when one after another show lines;
They're hard to decipher.


Her world is an abstract.
Colored yet black.
Misunderstood.
Yet it's what she attracts.


Fortifying the tenacity of my heartstrings,
she let my mind's eye open into hers,
as we pirouetted along the astral plane -
our gaze eternally locked.


Difficult.
Oh that is in her mind.
Indifference in her heart.
Etched in variegated beams of light,
She's a piece of art.


These sweetest verses kept for years.
It's the reason why smile had found its way onto her lips.