I smell no Jasmines, Daisies or Geraniums this Summer
Nor my soul desires the nectar of an ancient amphora
Crimson riddles my skin
My mind is an Amethyst.
An Amaranth a fixed star; an amulet
To which my neurons ebb and flow.
Purple radiates in shades
Violet Veins. My palpitations are magenta.
My heart is a deeper shade of purple. This summer.
Like a wound under a microscope.
I long to plot the anelemma of my thoughts
Protons in blue and electrons in amber.
Yet purple dominates my neurons like a clumsily drawn tube map.
In my mind, a soft ray of violet makes a lemniscate
Other colours, smells and senses, an oblivion await.