True Seeing

the curtain that I peer through is Ivory

not white-

 so when your legs tremble

in your back’s lonely slouch,

I see in them

the earthiness of light brown. And you are

  a little biege feather

quivering in anticipation of the morning breeze.

And this

and this

 is more soothing

than the truth.

“Through the Window” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse

Artwork: The Velvet Darkness of his Mind by Morgan Kendall