Synesthesia – in the Imaginary Garden


The sound of your
Words made me itchy
Like an old wool blanket
on bare skin
You, the smooth talker,
Can not fool me
I feel the lies that slip
Smoothly through your lips
Lies you think are hidden
Behind a charming smile

Depth Of Color


your words smelled like roses but
they left a taste of vinegar in my mouth
truth does not come easily to you

your words looked soft and fluffy but
i felt pricks on my skin from the thorns
compassion does not come easily to you

you colored your words with peaceful
green but underneath was the red of rage
love does not come easily to you

my words stretched out to cover you
in a quilt of tender blue so you
would feel the color of peace

the prompt today over at the pub is “synesthesia”

Thanks to Victoria Soto for this one