The white shades melt into the pink strokes of teal and rose; sliding up a glass-carved vase
Like a flowered bracelet; like a spider as it drains the water from a crumpled hose,
Like the gold lettering: edging the surface like cake: curled round the creamed roses; and the blue amethysts:
Rain: patter down the rose-painted window; glass: that streams down; in a crimson wallpaper of tears;
Cutting into the bone: streaks of petal-flavoured; water rushing into the plug;
Crick her ear: Listen to the fallen rain: and Hear it make thunder storms across the purple panes:
And a rainbow: like a sunset; like an arc: passes through the glass as a boat:
Auburn: steamed with black; and chalk.
Hair, falls across her neck: in coiled cascades, unmasking the bare neck:
Silver locket lies; cold against the blood: warm; an amulet to blue daylight.
Eyes, infused with deep green: Stare into the depths of the seaweed eyelashes:
And: spiky; come out of your crab, Crusted with mould: red, and rusted-in sand:
Splattered with shells: from a thousand millennium ago. A flash of white: arising like
eyeball from the pupil: bright, see a film of May; pass through the sky; and make a
hailstorm of spring petals, dusted onto the strands: like a graduation cap:
And gaze into the creamy lines: of a day that has not passed into its next decade:
And taste the rain; like red champagne: as its bubbles spell out your portal; your years.
See yourself handled in the fingers of a reader: young: their hands curl over the aged page,
Until they are old and grey.
Join the arc of the rainbow, the hard ground, that softens your feet:
Plant the red shoes: glittering: onto an emerald, plush floor;
And stay there in the calm that blazes gold;
Make yourself vulnerable,
To the white tips; that paint a haze of plain onto the colourful art.