The Sight of Sound

Yellow orange drums form the uneven gesso on the blank black canvas of my mind.Upon this rhythmic background comes the green hissing of a maraca. Swirling from inside a nearby body comes the violet timber of a man's inner cry. His blue-purple sound fills my mind, and calls to my soul.I respond with my own pink-magenta cry. I weave my sound with his, creating new colors, Amethyst, grey, brown. He softly caresses my sounds, coaxing out the pain and sorrow. All is shown in a cacophony of color! Alas it must end. No face to match with the intimacy of our inner colors.