And some people are in my head
Not in faces and names but
In the form of tastes and smells and
You came to me as a leather-bound
Diary on a rainy day.
As honey with milk and cinnamon
You came to me as a sea-green canvas
In an artist’s studio.
As washes of pale yellow and lilac
And hints of gold.
You came to me in perception
Half imagined in my mind
As fabricated layers of conviction
That I knew were real.
I always thought I was special, as
A wave of basil and strawberry
As crackling fire on a
I thought of myself as an orange wall
Speckled with vermillion
As a palette of bright acrylic
I saw myself as a collection
Of feelings and smoky filters
As the seams of the universe
Struggling to hold up.