oil on canvas
160 x 160 cm
i have not woken up yet, but i can still
discern the soft smell
of a pungent, intoxicating rose.
i can hear the laughter and the joy,
and feel the love that follows.
i open my eyes and
to the last of the sun’s rays
tickling my face.
before the night descends
i will see it dance
behind a hill and the skyline of boxes
the sky will no longer be blue,
but a raspberry pink:
it is a child's whisper,
the youth in exchange of secrets.
it lives its own playfulness.
the tulips beneath the hill blush
into the saturation of colours
and i smile whilst i can, as i have not
awakened just yet.
- tt.n 2018