Tell me in colors
if you can’t say the words,
I’m a mustard
yellow, a sticky blotch of mess ‘round your white coffee cup; tell me here in this moment what
you’d prefer, perhaps
a splash of red and I will swirl the orange you’ve been after; tell me our
love is no longer violet, deep afterglow sky, soft rain kissing windows,
handwritten notes left by the kitchen sink; tell me you want an evergreen
start, a redo, your beginning; tell me this is the end, that I’m now last season’s shades of Love in New York and
you, Faded Love; tell me all the things that made me choose you, like when you
said I’m your sunrise
palette, your ocean blue and golden ray, white sea foam waves; tell me, tell me
quick before it all turns grey.
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