has no one ever told you that
your eyes aren’t brown?
your gaze has borrowed from a hundred places
a colour I’d use to paint a million pictures
clay, I think,
soft clay from the hills and valleys
with the spring-kissed earth
on those postcards you send
only to the ones you love.
your eyes have every shade of colour I ever gathered
as a child from the old pebble beach,
and golden specks; I’m certain
the sun once danced in you.
the falling leaves of autumn
have swirled into the way you look at me,
teaching me new languages,
of storms, of sentiment, and of silence.
if the smell of rain was made of a colour,
your eyes would be its name.
did the fireflies learn from your piercing gaze?
I know I want to.
I know the stars slipped out last night,
with only your eyes as their excuse.
I’ve mastered the art of tiptoeing past
the crackle at their surface,
and into the beckoning flame.
a kind of candlelight;
searing at the edges, yet
gentle at the core
I apologize dearly for how little I get to see you, your surface. I know it’s my fault that I rarely bother with cleaning you up. I really should place those stacks of books and piles of shirts elsewhere but I can’t bring myself to do it! You’re rather cluttered, yes, but hey- if I know exactly where everything I need is in that mess, it doesn’t count. Right?
“Accessible design is good design.” – Steve Ballmer.
Table, I’ve done you good design.
It’s raining. My side of the sky right now is grey, dark grey. It was orange and pink before. Actually, I can’t see much anymore because it’s foggy here, and raining pretty hard – my vision is blurry. It’s really cold and wet and I can feel the wind this time, it’s coming from the right side! Do you feel it too? Is there wind on your side? The clouds are almost pink and there’s crying lightning every other minute but I don’t hear it, there’s no thunder.. that’s strange
Oh god, I’ve managed to lock myself in the balcony again. I can’t get in! Hang on, it’s, like, jammed. Ugh.
Ah yes. Hello? Got in. You know, I tried playing the piano earlier this evening but I couldn’t hear myself, the rain was so loud! But it’s okay- favourite sounds here.
I’m sitting in my favourite place now and tracing the shaky, almost hesitant, path of the raindrops on the glass with my finger. It’s just drizzling now and I’m feeling nearly as weak as the rain sounds. I can see lights all over the city, there’s yellow and blue and red and white and pink and green and orange. That mall, I can actually see tiny people on the escalators through the glass facing me. There’s a woman getting out of her car on the ground floor. She’s going to have to run to her block- she’s covering her head with her dupatta! I don’t know why I’m cracking up. God I’m weird. Sorry.
The reflection of my fairylights on my window when I switch them on is so pretty! I’ll show you a picture. I could sit here forever, really. I love this weather so much.
My side of the sky is great, it’s comforting me today. How about yours?
I took these. Okay, I should probably go now.
Let’s do this when it rains again.