I told of your story
the way I painted sunsets
I start with my yellow
a favorite shirt sprawled on the floor
Then the reds of your eyes
the passion in our hearts
A mixture of both that reveals my favorite color
the orange shirts of your favorite camp
A drop of white
To emphasize the departure of warmth
And finally the black silhouette
Of the shadows of what's left
Sometimes I paint over it
Over and over
To adjust the saturation
But in the end
I settle for a blank canvas
And paint the night sky instead
YOU ARE READING
Trinkets
PoetryIf you want to read without the commitment, this is the perfect book for you. You can open it and read a few excerpts once in a while, or you can read it in one go. The entries here have various themes which may confuse readers as it confused the wr...
