His white sockets stretch over
his bright, translucent ligaments,
as they gleam with radiant whiteness.
At the corner of his wet eyes
Streaks of morning dew trickle from cheek
to pillow.
He ghosts himself into the disarrayed sheets
curling into the expanse of white bedding.
Their bonnets bowing,
gliding through the white hallways,
their heads timidly flickering like light bulbs.
Candle’s drip into their bed of discoloured white wax.
The white pages of bibles
have become a murky white, collecting aged dust.
White pebbles gather on the beach
stacked onto of each other, naked white
the water’s froth climbs onto them
throwing translucent splashes onto their faces and backs
leaving bubbles of foam sliding and disappearing
between white pebbles.
The sailor at the harbour,
follows the linear of her berry blue skirt,
her hem dangles with debris of indigo cotton
as it chases after the rift of her hips
under the pulsating Van Goch sky.
She cries onto his tattered denim
he searches for distraction in the windows of electric blue light.
His corporate indigo suit
lamely hangs in his wardrobe
slumped in his bed, aegean sheets swallowing him
he cannot yield himself to enter the day’s blue sky.
Her inky tears merge with her cyan bruise,
she lives in the midnight disguise, under the faint lilac moon’s glow
leaping over the earth’s surface to anywhere.
Anywhere but in the reflection of her pulsating cyan bruise.
Meeting new ground in the pale blue morning
she hears the swelling of bluebirds.
Earthy coffee brooding in its cup
on the wooden table
chipped on its side revealing the wood’s skin.
Chinks, flaws, beauty.
Her hands of henna
Swarmed with intricate lines
swirls and dips of reddish brown
reveal themselves from the shrouding of her golden shawl
her almond eyes seek for more.
In her vision,
the austere owl
hides itself in the brown bark
Its yellow-specked almond eyes
seeking for more.
The children slide in mud,
Creating a thick stew as they sludge through the thick mess
the ball battered in brown sludge
mud slathering their once white calves
mahogany winter branches leaning into the periphery
Chromatic shop windows
mirrors looking out onto the world, the world looking in
Dusty mice scatter across the dun railway lines
scurrying through the city’s labyrinth
Steel locks and bolts
tightly shut entrances and exits.
Grey pigeons populate the city
bobbing their necks across and around
Trafalgar square.
Few migrate to the
cold English waters
where pebbles pile up
and seagulls flock to land
onto the peppery rock assortment
A cinereous lake
Illuminates pearly spots
where murky ice
whispers underneath to a frozen hush.
seewhatshemeans 