there are not enough

colors in the world to

describe what I see

when I hear your name. 

you are grey.

the grey of an owl,

or perhaps a winter's day

before a snow. 

you are crimson. 

flashes of fire, 

an astringent cherry wine, 

burning a hole through me.

you are cerulean blue. 

the color of your eyes,

cold as ice 

stabbing my yellow heart.

i still sleep in

your old flannel shirt. 

it smells grey like your name,

but the shirt is brown.

its smell reminds me of you, 

your faded aftershave 

dancing across my

synesthetic darkness. 

the colors talk to me, 

whisper arcane secrets,

spiraling across my eyelids

and my mind is flooded with color.