A Strange Poem
the moving colors
the intoxicating music
the dark orange sky
the loud comforting rain
I can taste your eyes
In the indespensable taste
of my bittersweet morning coffee
The music of your smile
Is too fixating I could close
my eyes and never wake up again
Your hands are like flying colors
I'd catch them all and make you
A rainbow of touches
Trip. trip. You calling my name.
Ah, you sound like the loud rain
So I could just stay home and listen
Are you that helmsman from that
faraway beautiful dream?
Who sends Mr. ...