Auras

As I sharpen my senses, days later

I react all the same.

As you travel further away from this place, I name you as

The swift traveler who never knew how to say goodbye.

Weary eyes, whiskey breath, wondering heart, wasted space;

We collide with those clouds all stained,

The moody colors swirling above and below us.

Different shades of pale pinks, baby blues, riveting reds

Only define what we really felt.

                                           -Hollie Jones