In Spectrum of Randomness

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...