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.

Image source