Synaesthesia


I wish you could see
the colors I could hear
chattering and whispering
like every other matter

Is insignificant if not of their world,

And all those songs
that they sang to me
that beating, pulsating, shaking
within me, within me,
deep inside the tresses
of my mind

I wish you could see
the things they did to me
like a child orphaned
or a woman robbed of her dignity
and a man failing to be a man

I wish you'd see
that glorious show of light
and look at the dead with fascination
just how I look at you and everyone else.

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