My Colours

I want to say something, it is buried beneath layers Layers, layers of pain’t, layers of different colours. Reds for the times I’ve bled, blue for the times I flew, Carried by the wind over valleys of green, stone grey mountains, Silvery seas, white-feathered wings tickled by the breeze. You say you tease I want to say to you, I see your colours too Your reds, yellows and blues, perhaps even The shades you hide, the ones where my finger begins to scratch The surface, just a little. I hope I don’t break a nail! I smile as the colours chip, revealing a tender bit, You say you tease My favourite colours are: green; the green that’s underneath The old boat jetty by the lake, when the sun shines through, Blue; my eyes are green yours are blue, the mixture of the two Red; yes definitely the red of a fresh drop of blood from being stung by The roses you will send me when you begin to fall for me. You say you tease As your colours emerge, I wonder will I see colours that are layered upon me. Perhaps shades of the same, there are 120 different shades of white A spectrum in which we shall find some commonality I am willing to explore and so therefore I ask you Please don’t tease me anymore.