Thursday, June 5, 2008

Colours


The sun is slowly dieing
and the wind is picking up
the sky is growing darker still
shivers crawl down my back
as if someone was walking over my grave
I look towards the dieing light
the colours blend together
like paint on an artists palette
slowly mixing, making bright hues
of read and orange, highlighted by yellow
I close my eyes and inhale deeply
I concentrate on the silence, breathing slowly,
you voice wisps past my ea
r
as if it were floating on the wind
it comes again, louder this time, but still a whisper i cannot make out,
I concentrate harder, what are you saying?
it comes once more loud as if you were right beside me,
the air feels warm, and soft, as if
you are talking into my ear,
my eyes open
"I'm here" the soft warm air says,
I look up

it's
you. . .

~Sakuranbo Kyuuketsuki ~
©

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