Mediocrity comes in many colors and shades,
Excuse me now, while I count the ways
the cream, the bone, the offwhite, the ivory or the beige.
Mother of pearl, cloud grey, navy or spaceship grey
And when we mix it all, it just becomes a haze.



Clouds slowly kissing, kissing gently the bluefish sky
The rain is wet, but not an implement of cold
Leaves fallen on trees still linger on the ground, do they hate their former owner?

The main path is clear, but still stained with ages brown distain
We watch each other, meal long over but still remain

A whisper makes her hair climb slightly, like a bird not quite ready to find a new meal
Clasping cups that remain in heat of a baristas timeless work

Gracefully caressing from her frame in quaint herald of her bosom, a red and silver dress
Flowers of Eden, yellow, purple, blue, touch and take the eye to every magnitude

Words are ready, staring at her green eyes. Love and desire clearly filled. A sensual milk. A couple of hern. Claiming nights of skin touches melting inside a pool of cool solid and ever lasting words. A gathering electrict storm. A building gathering moss on its last day of life. A number of infinity discovered for second. Then.

Another cup of tea.