102007

It brings in the colours.

Is this how everythings supposed to look:
Bright?
More luminous than the ash sun?

Is this how you see the world:
Do colours leap of surfaces
Into your soft eyes
Spilling onto your retina
Flowing down your optic nerve
Soaking into your brain
Where it’s translated into
True love?

Because I see the world
In 18% grey
All rainy days
And when that rain
Hits my synapses
It’s translated into
Lost love.

© Liam Elliott 2007. All Rights Reserved.

Also, I really want to go to an existing/ start a poetry reading.
Contact me if you're interested.