You're the lighter shade
of azure skies;
You radiate in cerulean
and cyan seas--
of tuscan ties.
At rainbow's wavelength,
I praise your reflection
in gunmetal glassworks;
Little by little, your absence
is tearing my firebrick complexion
into French mauve fireworks.
Now lighter and weightless
in mood and being,
I wish you were the ivory
to the ebony feeling;
You are always the flavescent light
to the feldgrau shade,
the crimson and cardinal
to an emotionless silhouette.
I know my palettes
never went wrong,
tangerine to evergreen
I can make you feel strong;
Blood-stained technicolor
and battle-drained valor,
You are what I savor!
I ain't swaying springtime
bluebells in your field
of purple periwinkle dreams,
But I'd love to blend in
with your sunny side-up
yellow sunbeams.
Watching the emerald
emergence of aurora
with you--
is a dream come true.
Every aesthetic avalanche
draws me to you
in cosmic galaxified encounters--
Hoping not to end
in charcoal blackhole grunch:
Seeing you in psychedelic
kaleidoscopic spectrum
is erasing me
from the portraits intricated
with gothic thorns,
In saudade-satiated slumber,
I hear your nightshade
nocturnes and mourns;
Then I embellish myself
with drops of aquamarine
transparency just to clear
my doubts against you--
and your tarnished tranquility.
With all ink-stained insinuations,
I breathe you into
chrome combinations.
You ,not noticing my skobeloff
sentiments, blind me
to old lace blandness;
Now color-blind, you're unstaining
my wintergreen wholeheartedness!
I hope you'd end it
soon before the
supersonic sparks swoon...
I wish you'd change soon
before the melancholy
of Mesonoxian moon;
Right here and right now,
I'm yearning for a crepuscular
crescent on my selenian face
And only you can paint it
at its liveliest phase:
I'm longing for your timeless
touch in every scenic space,
Without hesitation,
let's dissipate--
like vintage vapors
in acrylic air
of breeze's surface.
Even if we weren't
born airborne,
I wish we were together
once we're torn.
Even if oxygen-deprived,
I wish we could stick like
two lovers from Pompeii
who survived.
I wish our stormcloud
whimsicalities
could turn into
sandstorm possibilities.
All energies bind into one
flame throwing fume,
I hope priceless passion
will resume.
Even if there's nothing
but achromatic assumptions,
Even if we become the colors
of deathshade dissolutions...