The color of her eyes when reflecting his sadness
in a mirror neither of them can see.
He approachers her and grazes his fingertips
across her skin
as if each point of contact were a grain of sand
as if her eyelashes were the waves
and her eyes the ocean.
The color of her favorite sundress
with thick half sleeves on a thin material
that he desperately wants to rip off of her
but gently, so he doesn't hurt her
for hurting her would be his greatest demise.
The color of his jeans on the floor,
their freshly washed sheets, wrinkled and wet
from their passion, their intimacy,
the kind that leaves you shaking
and desperate for so, so, so much more.
Sapphire's color. The color of the sky.
The last color named in nature.