When I look back there will be
a stair in the climb
on which I lingered
in all my fickle love and heed
to stare at colours—bold,
unseen—‘til an afterimage settled
on my tongue
and thus, the ascent was sweet.
a stair in the climb
on which I lingered
in all my fickle love and heed
to stare at colours—bold,
unseen—‘til an afterimage settled
on my tongue
and thus, the ascent was sweet.