The Inchoate Synesthete
by Hillary Lyon



the colored lights
dance on your tongue
blue into green soon yellow
fading white on white cloudburst notes
the notes are the strata of melody building
a house on the lush overgrown acre
hidden inside your heart you dance
spontaneously spectacularly
unchoreographed through each
unfurnished sunlit chamber





Illya's Honey Literary Journal

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