A Thousand Wishes

A thousand wishes
Reminiscent of dresses
Hung in the closet
Of a studio apartment

On her half while his
Held suits and slacks
And black dread where the
Colorblind saw comfort

On the elevator up
There’s glass between
You and the city
While you rise

Each little street
Divides itself to
The horizon growing
Pink with sunset lines

Wisp of the scent
Mist of the bent
Rays of light as

This couple eloped
They couldn’t see
But stoked frostfire
Of every evening

With the dread of
Tomorrow loving
Lessons from yesterday
Like the mirror in between

Their racks
Separated by the fact
That she was vibrant
And he wasn’t

It was the holes
In the walls she couldn’t
See that concerned him
So entirely

Black of secrets and
Greys of dismay
More than what stitches
Seams of her sweaters

Like the sky was green
And ever swirling
With a void craving
Consumption of knowing

Onthology her passion
Even if his wasn’t resonant
She tried to paint what
He saw

Tried to match the
Holes in the walls
That weren’t
The windows

When he didn’t worry
He stared at the streets
On the way from work
Or getting groceries

Enthralled by the shades
Of green so pervasive
When set as the backdrop
For his happy little life

So she would put on a new color
“Anything you wish”
She said and was disappointed
When she heard “black” from him

Were it a beauty misused
Or a foreboding optimism
Let loose
That it shook the color apart

Clouds in the sky
But it wouldn’t rain to him
Even as she crawled into
Bed with book and drink

He’d sit in solace at the window
And only think
Of all the things that are

Missing all the wishing
That she had done
To be with him
And him alone

In the end was it worth it
If she could save him
It might be but right now
Is not the most colorful

He played to the tunes
Of reduced music
Stark whites were sown
Into the wallpaper

Yet she could always see
It as yellow
Not skipping a beat
And trying to make meadows

That her beloved could see
So consumed was he
By political worries
And economic gleans

It rarely seemed that he
Was there
But if you ever asked
He’d say he saw it

Playing in the meadows
Of whatever god

His own meadows of
Cosmic green of envy
Over not knowing what
Color looks like

Broodom nearly helped
Him find it himself
Develop the optics
To find that heaven

For he wished to see
What she did but without
Her eyes he would have
Already been lost

Published by Jake Thomas Shaw

Concerned with memory, currency, and destiny, I strive to capture each one as they happen. Join me and consume reality! Radio Reality. City!

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