Square white canvases
          painted brown--brown aroma--
                    yellow pool fish--flush!

If ever I grow small
Consider me still useful
Uncrippled color

So much to say, which means so little;
So little to say, what that means much.
These ends we face, often,
Come on fast and taper out just as such.
What that remains: naught but thought.
Loose and multiplicitous as strands,
Hair of the artist's brush,
Colors as the richest palette -
Bold & bright, deep & dark

source infinity
in your minds mental construct
as real as color

I’m made out of colors
Colored outside of the lines.
You say I’m a masterpiece
But I’m so unfinished.
So full of empty spaces.
But maybe
One day I won’t be.

The color blue has always been just that to me - a color. A plain, unremarkable hue that I never thought twice about. It was the same as any other color - no different than the color of a dull pen or the gray skies on a rainy day. It was a common color that I had seen a million times before in a million different eyes.

But then I met you.

Suddenly, the color blue took on a whole new meaning. It was no longer just a color but a reflection of the depths of your soul. Your eyes were like pools of shining ink spread across plain pages, filling chapters of my life with every glance. They were like a bright summer horizon that expanded before me, stretching as far as the eye could see. They were like a vast, infinite ocean of sparkling blue, and I found myself willingly drowning in your color.

Your eyes are not just blue - they are a world of their own, filled with depth and meaning that I never knew existed. They are a window into your soul, and every time I look into them, I feel like I am seeing a new part of you that I never knew existed.

They are the color of your laughter, your joy, your love, and your pain. They are the color of all the things that make you who you are, and I am grateful every day that I get to see them.

~
Lift the veil from a grayscale morning. Vividly imagistic. An odalisque no more.

Her shape beneath the gown is a foreign land, a series of quiet revelations. Its pattern manifests as pinpricks of light perforating the shirred fabric of his heart.

The preponderance of dream in her eyes becomes a call and response evoking purely imaginary spaces. The contained chemistry is beautifully insular, monochromatic.

And there her lips. Into claustrophobic kiss. This lower register of love comes in unadorned, subtle colorings like the darkest part of night.

One thousand shades of gray.
One single light of white.
And everything merges in the night.
~