Incense and tea bags on the window sill
Looking out the eighth story window
At the light bulbs blinking below,
Waiting for my life to start without you;
Floating aimlessly in my thoughts,
Ignoring the giggling bookshelf
To entertain myself
So that the moment you walk in the door
Will be like Jack coming out of his box;
Do you like the colors I made today?
I decided I don't like green grass.
Purple is much more fitting to last
Beyond the rusting of Time.
There was a moment in this life
Where my tea bags gave me flashes
Of open doors and fluttering lashes
While incense smoke cradled
My innocent paintbrush...
But from this kaleidoscope view,
While you're diving into the picture frame
To make the light bulbs praise your name,
I'm changing the colors around without you
So you can smell the incense too.