When I hear heels clicking, I feel goosebumps arising, like I can already feel her against my skin.

Each time i see her lips, I taste peppermint and raspberries.

Every time she talks I see the most vibrant of colours, fauvism has never seemed so prominent.

When i imagine her body next to me, I see my lips pressed to her neck, the most luxurious perfumes I can scent from her skin.

I hear melodies and love songs each time you talk to me, every time you whisper.

You are the rainbow-

You are the stars,

And the moon,

The sun and the entire day-time sky.

You are the French words I mumble beneath my breath.

All the doodles id sketch as a child,
With all of my favourite colours and scribbles all about.

You might just be a person I've come to love, but i see you as so so much more.

You are an essence that glows, and lives down by the indigo blue, bubbling lake, that glitters and sparkles, you watch the trout and coy fish jump and the lily pads quake.

But you are just a girl.

You are the golden dandelions, and the wishing flowers, with dark green, dew drenched leaves.

This is no longer poetry, but everything I see.

And I swear that I dont have synesthesia, but you are glorious things to me, beautiful things that no one else can see.

You are God,

You are good.

The divine entities in my life, all bow and subside, when it comes to you.

I love you.

And maybe it is synesthesia, but I've not been diagnosed.

And if that were what it was, then how come every person who isn't you seems to be a ghost?

- Ariah Christman