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.
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