I say to her,
“Please tell me what it’s like,
This feeling that you
Live with everyday.”
She tells me that
She is nothing special,
I should look elsewhere
For beautiful human portraits.
She tells me that
She probably lives like
Everyone else, that
Synesthesia just makes her
Feel a bit more intensely,
And her lover, that charming girl,
Is her outlet, a canvas
To paint her emotions upon.
She feels and loves
Like I can never experience,
And I tell her so.
She says to me
With a smile, “Our worlds are
Not so different, yours and mine.”