last autumn i discovered the world was beautiful after all

blues of sky melt and swim, 

distorting and seeping through my bones. 

a monotone monday locks me in my thoughts,

grays washing over my surface. 


summer greens, not nearly green enough

and hazy air blurring the lines of a colorless colored world.

my thoughts made of clouds

and gut with rock,

the heavy airiness of the world on my chest.


                      sun soaks through the orange of the leaves,

the leaves dried with autumn warmth

                                                                                   soaks through my body,

                                         my body made of liquid                                                        

                                                                                                                           soaks through my being, 

                                                                       my being made with mud;


the lines of the world wash into 

indistinguishable golds and blonds 

with monarchs riding winds and koi fish in ponds.


life soaks through the cracks of my hands,

leaving orange of the leaves melting and swimming,

morphing and  flowing into my being.