My poem dreams in an electric blue
A color so beautiful and wild the ocean envies her, the poem’s imagination
Look at the way she, the poem looks at You
Wonder spirals in her eyes from the delicate tips of lashes to her dilated pupil
You don’t see it, the wonder, I mean
Your dreams are sloppy, painted in rust; tattered clothes and a creamy beige
I hope someday you’ll learn about happiness
That picturesque turquoise featured in the murals painted in her brain
Intertwining and winding around the innermost sanction of your tiny little mind
Poetry.
Reflections 