Pseudopsychosis.

centuries dead moon
pretty ladies on the street
by death, clothed with
white snow; winter’s blue water
fingers in stardust, snitching ice red
hinging
as though I had seen, dearest,
your physiognomy of spring,
moved in black craters; (like tall roses),
whisk, whisk,
swaying a face, sun gardened
and unlike, cleaning osprey eggs.
try beyond,
do not turn from me,
twitching your oceanid weeds,
in symmetry twisting
shyness in ice, eyes like elk,
your little hands, moon, oak
lies in something
of the tree.

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Written for the dVerse prompt: Today we will write about color from the perspective of a synesthete. Pick one color or several colors. 

I was inspired by E.E. Cummings, particularly with this:

“the way to hump a cow is not
to elevate your tool
but drop a penny in the slot
and bellow like a bool”

Just kidding. I thought I would include that to maybe throw you off. However, I was inspired by E.E. Cummings’ writing style, just not by that poem, which if this intrigues you, you can read it here.

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