Colour & Clarity

He asks nothing of me now

Head down, eyes up. A quiet recognition when we run into each other at cafes

We don't speak of those long, formative nights

I sense grainy films forming in his imagination, heady and full. Hot bursts of colour that have seared my memory in, close

His eyes have depth and meaning and feel. I see myself reflected in them. A tiny upside-down me dances in reverse across his blueish-grey lenses

I could be anything then - sweet thighs, innocence and power. The edges of my personality colliding with rich, endless possibility

I think back and gather strength from that place. I gleam like a trophy; precious, golden and strong. Built from the foundation he (we) created

I collect his memories, hold his attention, a spectrum of experience underpins who I am

A polished version of my younger myself, re-formed and re-worked appears now

Head up, eyes up

In full colour, with clarity.