saturation in F minor

1

if these lines could speak
they would drag syllables
from my lungs

they would not
muster through gritted teeth but
travel through the air as darts to their board

and my breath shall carry through the scarlet sky

I just hope she isn't allergic to red

2

It's just paint ~
these words
my thoughts
our feelings
she never should have
been alergic

but being born
within a plastic bubble
never allowed her to
feel the warmth of the world

it's a cruel joke if you ask me
but she didn't
because her lips
were saturated in disbelief

3.

the taste of raindrops
fulfills her lips because
she yearns for lusture

only tilting her head
when rainbows escape normality
her toes not a quiver nor a curl.

numbered she sees me in full
bright like a sun that only screams for more
but she likes her shade

4.

I called on constellations
within the freckles
on her chest
trying to find where my name
had been written

but in the aboslute black
even shadows appear
to be lost

5.

the syllables to a name like this
is but a double numeral
it invokes two seconds of breath
where I thought we held

I only asked her to breathe
because I thought she enjoyed the gasp

6.

tunneled memories
fade past the hush
of a burnt scarlet morn

where winded words
whispered of a dead poet
no longer filled with blank pages

but

simply imbued in
what was once called
ideas

of her