Your colours

your irises are the colour of coal,

dark, brooding, igniting my heart,

with a desire, to writhe in the flames

of your wild sight, of your blazing glare,

.

your voice is the color of crimson roses,

succulent, musical, arousing my skin,

getting a feel of your every word,

mesmerized, by the tremor of your lips,

 .

your sanctimonies are the color of muck,

impenetrable, rotten, stabbing my mind,

with the reverberating libels, of your deeds,

and the mouldering state, of your marshy stare,

 .

your covetous smile is the colour of lichen ice,

toxic, freezing, breaking me into ruins,

by the hammer, of your ill deliberations,

repulsing me away, from your embrace,

 .

you have the wan psyche of a fiend, colourless,

which rests beneath your masquerade,

of an angel, of the saint like eyes and voice, but

I can feel your sinister self, see you for who you are,

.

like you see me in my own colourless colours,

I am no better than you, I am a ravaging beast,

a mess of hues, purple, brown, olive, and blue,

splayed on and against, drenching my being

.

I am tagging it as the poem for 3 November for NaBloPoMo. Also submitting the link for dVerse Poetics.

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