tintype

the morning sun would light your eyes

in WAYS that made me

think of olden

colours in the ANCIENT DYES

of photographs and

stories told

when pigments seemed to LACK the hues

that load our bandwidth..

feed our swipes

as fuel the RAINBOWS we confuse

with overwrought, our

dayglow stripes

-

my view of you in BED of BRASS..

the noises made when

making love

with shades of bister mixed with glass

in HAZEL PANES for

dreaming of

our sleeping late as limbs unwound

with covers tossed when

coffee LATE

to brew, as day was FAT AROUND

and creaks of mattress

couldn’t wait

-

for finding you, was unprepared

for UMBER CASTS of

amber paint

the breathless beige, unready, scared

of SUBTLE TRACES..

chromas faint

too used to loud, emblazoned, thick

IMPASTO DAUBS and

stiffened tints

when light through window, RUSSET BRICK

found cinnamon in coffee..

hints

-

of you in blush of PASTEL glows

that lean to browns and

henna buffs

is all I need through prism.. grows

the SEPIA that feels

enough

I look again, and there you SLEEP

thru noon in whispers..

muted sounds

of neighbor’s vinyl, find I meet

you tween the sheets in

colours FOUND

https://open.spotify.com/track/3NkvHWcu6iR3f4i72d5YST