I never really had a favourite colour until I met her,
And when she said hers was red,
And that was when red became mine too,
Because now I see her in every sunset,
Every time I pick a wild strawberry,
I can feel her holding my hand,
Every time she puts her hand on my chest,
And she can feel my heartbeat,
That's the colour that comes to the surface,
As her fingertips trail like a sentence never finished.
Each time I hold her against me,
Like I never want to let go,
That's the colour of her pulse.

Red was never my favourite colour,
Until she told me it was hers.