Eat, drink, (garden, knit, quilt, think, fix, read) & be merry

Lost, to a synaesthetic

on March 1, 2009

It’s a quiet word, quite at home in a whisper.

It’s sweet, like caramel, but a little burnt and bitter around the edges.  It’s comforting as long as it isn’t terrifying.

I crave it, sometimes, to wander in cool greens and breathe a damp blue air, circling in a happy haze.  Air can find the bottom of my asthmatic lungs when I’m lost and wandering with no real place to be or go.

I get scared, sometimes, hopping on harsh reds and feeling the prickly hotness flashing states of consciousness when I cannot find where I need to be.  

It’s tug-of-war between wanting control and letting go, of relaxing, of living in a little mystery and softness.  I lean towards an firm grip and rigid outlines but I’m happier in a little haze.  Learning to be a little lost, a goal and a hope.


2 responses to “Lost, to a synaesthetic

  1. Tumblewords says:

    How lovely. Happier in a little haze. Reminds me of the optometrist recommending glasses that made hard edges out of soft smears. I took one look, decided I’d rather see a little blur and guess at the rest!

  2. floreta says:

    i like this. it reminds me that life is much funner with imperfection..

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