She asked me
when the water, ready was
a pool, ripples along the edges
with colors, lacking,

“Choose a color
one of your favorites
I won’t influence, what
how, why you’ve chosen
what it means, how it feels,”

My color, my choice
as if my life, my love
upon it, depended

Made me wonder
made me fall into a dream
where separated, we were
our hands outstretched, but something
an essence, a jumble of colors
a feeling, an older dream
came in the way,

My view, cloudy
but colorless, not
for clouds are while trending to black
the grey edges, the softer whites, pillow-like
stormy intentions, lightning moves
washed away in her absent tears,

Her colors, diffuse, unclear
boiling waters, unseen colors,
the level rising, overflowing into her cup
which to me she offered,
a color, she murmured in a dream-like
state,
a color, the connection between
me and you

The tea leaves swirled about
as if my fortune about to be told, was
she held it aloft, her hands cupped while
she intoned the stories of our lives,
together and apart, she told how it would end
when all ends were collected and placed
in her own cup, hot and steamy

She offered me a cup when I awoke, did
inviting and sensual, unclear as to its origin,
her loving smile, placed behind the mists
a picture, I never could have painted,
never would have imagined
in any dream, awake, or asleep

Haunted by the color
that she sought
from me,

Haunted still…..

This piece is the work of Notthedane56. You can find a lot more of his poetry, fiction and humor on his main site Everything in and around Denmark and on his new blog My House at the Sea