I like the thought of seeing the world through borrowed eyes, yet the thought of a person being the sole focus of thought is hauntingly creepy. I guess it touched too closely to my own personal experience in fighting for independence within a very controlling and obsessive relationship...such focus disturbs me.
The poems in the series were based on colors. This will sound weird, but have you ever seen a violet covered in the haze of dew in the early morning? An hour later the mist leaves, and it's bright and beautiful. I suppose that I was saying that I'm like the violet in the haze, but I want to be the violet after the haze has lifted. I tend to notice oddball things that confuse other people; I guess I've done it again .