Synesthesia Poem by Ashleigh Wiggins

Do you taste the scent of gasoline
My darling?
Can you feel the colors against your mind?
Hear the vibrant green of birdsong,
Or see the sweetness of molten chocolate.

Can't you feel the embrace of silken spice,
See the sparks of warmth from soft blankets.
My darling, how blinded you must be.
For you cannot hear the whispers of clouds,
Nor can you feel the gentle touch of azure skies.

Is it to be blessed by nature,
To feel the wrath each trodden flower carries?

Why is it I can feel,
I feel the depths of the shadows
And hear their callings.

Why is it you cannot smell,
The stale scent of silence,
Or the caramel notes of love.

Have you lost your sight?
Blinded to colors within burning incense,
And the luxurious gleam of shocking cold.

Why is it I can taste?
Taste the pine of plastics,
And the bitterness of sorrow.

Is everything meant to be muffled?
For I can hear the dripping of tears in ice,
And the whooshing flames of sunlight.
Is it you who is blinded my darling?
Or is it me who was blessed?

Why is it your eyes cannot paint in melodies?
And your voice cannot weave tales of flavored pain?
Can't you hear the singing of the voids?
Feel the lavender between the stars.

I taste the salty pleas of the cleansing rain,
And see the melancholy that paints the strawberries.
You hear an infant's cries,
But do you smell the petunias of need?

My darling beauty has been stolen from you,
For you lack the songs of periwinkle skies,
The chirping of love's attentions.

What is it to hear the rivers between our worlds?
To taste the honeyed milk of heaven's light?
Why is it I am burned by the waxy coating of autumn,
Yet you cannot taste the crispness of its very leaves.

Is it wrong to crave the coaxing whispers of snow?
To be bound by the embrace of tulips scent?

Is it torture, my darling?
To never feel the strength of spring's branches?
To never know the sour twinge of embarrassment
Nor smell the mint of a grasshopper
Would you know an archangel's blood is sweet?

My darling, I pity you.
You live trapped by mortal senses;
While I am merged with ethereal whims,
A vessel to celestial visions.