SYNESTHESIA

In between the mundane seconds of a yellow Sunday afternoon

and the stale poppies melting on my ill windowsill

I hear your grey voice rushing in sea waves

Echoing in my brain’s camphoraceous caves

Conquering my body like it’s a war zone fighting for my sanity

And the faces of your face are rip-offs clinging to me in shades of Marlboro blue,

reminding me of that cold August night

When pink words are all we could ever write

When the moon and us, are all we could ever believe in

When the smell of faith lingers, we exhale the smoke of uncertainty and pain

But still, we didn’t win…

Breathe— the inertia of emotions are starting to boil— and crawl…

The synesthesia of memories and papery words are crashing now on my chest

I sink like ice on hot water

I sink like how the sun sets in the west

I sink like Titanic

Whilst you float in me like a Lotus

Can you see, we’re the beauty amidst the collapsing tragedy

Can you feel the ruptures within my grape lips and my grape skin?

Can you taste what my blackberry heart is screaming?

Oceans ring like telephone calling you, as my words from a jar throat break free and sing

In all the hues of rainbow and blue

You should know by now, I fucking miss you