describing self

I am like orange not quite made up on red
like blue with the hints of jealous green
waiting for a cloud to cover my sky
a brilliant piece of paper
for which to write a thought

I am like wind, not quite a hurricane
though at times one might argue otherwise
like rain left mesmerized upon a pane of glass
left to ask the question of what is next
as it trails after gravity

I am like a window not yet rid of rose
like hazelnut coffee filled with raving bits of chocolate
longing for cream to drip over and slip
sip
and meander into a world
of smiles and sighs

I am clear
not yet transparent
glowing in the sun and
and reflecting moon
a revelation
of two thoughts
become one
as it reaches for the stars

I am blue not quite cian
a partly cloudy diamond sky
for bits of jealous suns to break through
and cast brilliant color
upon my skin.

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