If I Could Hear In Colour

If I could hear in colour,

The lilaced chairs would sing,

Comforting me in waiting rooms,

For another check-up screen.

If my ears worked perfectly,

I'd hear gold in everything,

Each test a honey marbled note

Headphones of liquorish blackened string.

If I could hear in colour,

I'd notice everything,

How the glass test booth spoke

Electric blues and greens.

If my ears worked perfectly,

It might be too loud for me,

Neon noises piercing,

Through chattered TV screens.

But I can hear in colour,

It's just baby pinks,

Sea-foam greens,

Crystallising moments, too silver quick to be seen.

If my ears worked perfectly,

I wouldn’t be who I am,

And if I ask you to repeat yourself,

It’s because I really give a damn.

You see I can hear in colour,

It's just a faded tapestry,

Crowded rooms like mosaics,

Of forks and bubbling glass clinks.

If my ears worked perfectly,

I’m not sure I’d change a thing,

Because the colour I hear is fizzed and sweet,

And exactly me.

I can hear in colour, because my ears don't work perfectly.