I see scarlet
When I hear the funeral trumpet
Now she is just a color

I hear Scarlet's cries
The love of my life
Murdered in cold blood
She was my wife

I have synesthesia
I see the blood
Imagining color is easier
For me

The blood has turned cold
But the color is warm
I feel blue when I think of her
And feel much warmer

Winter was the warmest that night
When you kissed me for the first time.

1.
Summer chauvinist,

autumnal aspirations

moments warmest


2.
Present celebrations

No supremacy

Only admirations


3.
No constant lies

oft healthy life


4.
Love exists

If our heart insists.



© Sylvia Frances Chan
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