(no subject)
Lamplight
After I made it end this was always
what I came back to in the quiet:
The world dyed orange like the air
in the lamplight angled down,
and the car you know is blue
turned dull and brown, and our minds
left to wander in out of the rain
to watch. You having never before questioned
or understood the difference; the change
of colour to an orange-glazed
world reflecting in your eyes and
misconceptions. The other colours
leaking into gutters with the rain. And you
with the lamplight in your hair
and me explaining that it makes us all look
orange because there's nothing else
to reflect. And me, despite everything,
rocking against you, and you,
despite everything, standing firm.
After I made it end this was always
what I came back to in the quiet:
The world dyed orange like the air
in the lamplight angled down,
and the car you know is blue
turned dull and brown, and our minds
left to wander in out of the rain
to watch. You having never before questioned
or understood the difference; the change
of colour to an orange-glazed
world reflecting in your eyes and
misconceptions. The other colours
leaking into gutters with the rain. And you
with the lamplight in your hair
and me explaining that it makes us all look
orange because there's nothing else
to reflect. And me, despite everything,
rocking against you, and you,
despite everything, standing firm.