Society Magazine

POEM: Synesthesia

By Berniegourley @berniegourley

POEM: Synesthesiacool patterns radiate off the back wall
sunshine screams through the transom

i cringe at the taste of red #4,
but don't know whether it's red's stench
or the bitterness of the number four

across Asia, "4" is an unlucky number -
the number of death -
but for some it tastes like citrus peel

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