Glasses.

I see you. The smudged edges of your being
Not flaws but the truth. Colors that outgrow boundaries.
Flowing out of edges, but not chaotic.
A form, a colorful persona. My love.

I see the stars. Not as little dots of silver
But bulbs of light. Like Starry Starry Night.
They are bright and moving. And the moon
Its not whole, but active in a blank sky.

I hear you, sometimes not clearly but I hear.
Words are incomplete but sound is perfect.
I try and read your lips, but they are beautiful red masses.
I see them move but know not what they mean.

The wind I can feel it on my skin.
The cold and warmth, as it gushes all over.
I try and find its traces in the trees but I see locomotive green.
Green bulges of color on brown. Moving swiftly.

And then I put my glasses back on.
The edges are clearer, the boundaries are visible.
I see some flaws and more color.
I have astigmatism, world is better without glasses.