Color

 

 

I can see it, the way her hand glides

Over used turntables

In a room of old and new equipment

Seen better days

The brush and paint

As black discs flip, from the back

He's moving keys

I will never understand

The beat of their art

Flooding this dingy apartment room

Filling the empty spaces

Of area, soul, finite existence

Lets the fear of reality leave

As she plays the soul

Of strangers watching

In dream closed eyes

 

Author's Note

Cp. 10:46AM Fri 08/15/08 'With You' Linkin Park a image in my head, drizzling purple clouds quiet good day, tired eyes, will be fine (Typed, House)

Reviews

[odhiambo]

very dark,very complicated.i feel like emotions are trying to push their way out still