She was gray-
a comfortable, mild gray,
but also steel gray that reflects in people's eyes and makes them turn away.
Her life was mere outlines,
doodles in the margins.
He was color and life and joy.
He was yellow radiating warmth on everything and everyone.
He painted her sketched world,
brought it and her to life
with colors still unnamed.
Her world was no longer colorless,
it was bold and beautiful.
He painted her skies and put the light in her eyes.
He saw her grey as shining and reflective in a way that poured herself into the world as she saw it
and gosh did he find that beautiful.
YOU ARE READING
Pondering
PoetryI write because emotion spills out of me. This is a collection of my poems and other writing. "My words are tiny pieces of me, each one specially woven just for you. And I will give, and give, and give, and give, until I am nothing and I become your...
