You were a rich ochre, Your warmth unattainable then, But now I feel it always Within myself.
You were brightest yellow, Like sunshine at midday Or the brightest crayon in the box. A colour that shone brighter Than either of our imperfections.
You were vivid jade, The colour of the forest that night As we lay on the deck and gazed at stars. We reached out to touch them, But never even came close.
You were a bold streak of cobalt, The precise shade of neon lights blurred By out-of-focus eyes on a Saturday night. Just like so many mistakes I’ve forgotten, Including you.
You were deepest indigo, The depth of the colour an exaggeration of yourself. Your fear of me overcame your desire. The rain that night blurred my vision, But did I ever see you clearly?
A story about love Is not the same As a love story.