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Smoke and Music
A synaesthesia poem
Jun 17, 2025
Let me swim in symphonies
unheard but seen anew
carried aloft on a tapping breeze
of unnamed instruments
that tangle their voices
in eternal curlicues
blues and purples,
pink smoke
sound and colour, layers upon layers
of pluck-struck notes — the thrum of the universe
— let me live in the space between
melody and harmony
where they’ll find me, dancing
through the coloured swirls
Author’s Note: I have synaesthesia, and while it’s mostly lexical-gustatory (I taste words,) I also have some sense differences when it comes to music.
Sometimes I see it, often I feel it in layers; this poem is an attempt to express a few of my music-listening experiences — hope you liked it!
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