textures and hues

My eyes graze over
and touch
the rough of the wall
of white painted skin
the palette of textures reaching my irises
with feeling

My ears filter
the screeching
scraping
tears of the knives against crockery
with pain

and yet

I muse
how quaint
this place
of textures and hues of character
of sounds
voices
languages
cultures
orientations
smells
tastes

is

I am welcomed

and the screeches reach me no more ...
the textures wash over me like a warm summer breeze ....