Synaesthesia

by Annette Snyckers

At six or seven
I would close my eyes
and see them
as I thought everyone else
could see them —
not only in full colour,
but each with its own
character, feeling, mood.
Monday was not really blue,
but rather rosy.
Tuesday was the blue one, pale,
and Wednesday was canary yellow.
Thursday was the green day
and Friday fiery red.
Saturday was purple
and Sunday rather gray.

It would be dishonest to claim
that I could smell them too.

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2 thoughts on “Synaesthesia

  1. Pingback: Mixed senses « Mud Map to Life in the Modern Age

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