The screeching silence has
painted faces in my sky.
Wax, oil and the intermittent
blue expressing sad, joyful
and guilty gasps now and then.
I stretch my hands to touch
their puffy cheeks, rainy
eyes, and glowing hair.
But stuck like glue am I
to the legs of this couch.
Stories I whisper through my
eyes into their mundane heads,
so that they let my clouds free
to descend down to the earth
once and for all…….

PC: Pexels (Ithalu Dominguez)