In a wilderness of pink and blue
Yellow and red do not exist.
The terms and conditions of normality
Dictate our lives like the cling wrap

Over my favorite sandwich keeping it fresh 
Kaleidoscope purple and green
Churn our reality
Adding to spice of life,
That yearns for a beginning in our ever lasting ending.

Mix match colliding
In a catastrophe of tomorrow
That one so holly in fullness would embrace,
To be part of the light pure white.

Turquoise and lime reflect a sourness in our mouths
That causes an amount of discomfort paralyzing the senses,
Making us numb to the aliveness of our environment.

Sit, wait, lounge in sleep
Comatosed by the blinding black that wraps her coil so tight,
That we can not help but suffocate under the dictatorship of night.

Move in, out, feeling the toxic vibration of pleasure building
Running through your veins flashing colours before your eyes,
Succumb to the orange and beige that wets the appetite for a little more.

Magenta mornings melt away
To elude us into another day,
Memory plays apart in a quest that the soul whispers to the heart.

A story told by a silver scribe
lets us devour our young without mercy of yellow bellied justice
Sculpted by what we despise yet embrace to survive
The gluttony of creation.

Amalgamation of emotion joisted to bind the clearness
Of pure liquid found in our bowl where the fish swim,
Gold ambition that rotates our beating momentum.

A whirl wind cycle that ever grows
The colours used in varying hues and saturation of perception,
Creating a monstrous adaption for all to interpret beyond point of recognition.

Intrigue seen in burgundy
The ever lasting thought of consciousness;
We are who are by what we do today

So move…

by Michele Hofer