Brewing Colors

I wait in the living room.

She insisted I stay for tea,

I can smell the leaves brewing.

 

Wandering eyes look around.

There are travel guides on the coffee table,

Exotic places I’d never heard of.

 

Had she been to them?

Will she be going?

Can I go with her?

 

There is art on the walls

Abstract and colorful,

Just like her.

 

A whistling sound fills the room,

Rustles from the kitchen,

The smell of passion fruit.

 

She comes back,

A smile on her face;

Conversation ensues.

 

She speaks of art in colorful tones,

From other places,

And done in different forms.

 

I learn she works in a gallery,

We agree for lunch sometime.

A place with both tea and art.

 

There is something about her,

An irresistible attraction.

See you soon my sweet masterpiece.

 

-Published in Graffiti Literary Magazine, Spring 2012