what colour would you give
to the warmth
that sits inside the folds of your hands
touching mine
what is the colour
of time unraveling at your feet
melting, flowing
unhinged, free
what colour would you give
to the light in your eyes
as you reach and pluck the day
ripe for picking
what colour, indeed,
is the shared silence
that speaks of a love
needing no words
Purple. Soft like dawn. Resonating warmth through the lines on our palms. Pulsing with the darkness of night, silent and resilient, and restful, preparing us for the morning.
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