My eyes drift the yonder of the colours after a rain, the sun shines through as thought compares love
to a
rainbow.

As if that was even possible

RED FIRST WOUND
Love begins like a wound unsealed
a **** of red across the sky,
wine spilled on white sheets,
lipstick bitten raw in the dark
it bleeds, it burns, it brands the soul.
Every whispered “I love you” tastes like copper,
tongues tangled in battle,
fingers tracing ribs like counting the cost,
a sunrise seething through storm clouds.

ORANGE FEVER DREAM
Love is heat, wildfire spreading
the citrus sting of desire peeled open,
the heatwave of hands that refuse to part,
persimmons soft and begging to be devoured.
Sunset drapes over shoulders like silk,
breathless, gasping, golden embers in a dying fire,
a hunger so bright it melts the spine,
a fever so high the body forgets its name,
collapsing into the glow of something holy.

YELLOW GUILT & GLORY
Love is bright, love is blinding
the glint of gold on trembling fingers,
a sunflower field drowning in its own sun.
The laugh like honey and waxed dripped over broken glass,
syrupy sweet tantalizing tastebuds but destined to crack.
Its comparable to sharp sting of jealousy, the fire of rage
the taste of lightning before the storm,
the smell of fresh cut grass,
a crown heavy with devotion,
a promise made in the shadow of doubt,
glistening in the distance.

GREEN DEVOUR & REGROW
Love is wild, overgrown and tangled
vines crawling through ribcages,
ivy winding around ankles, pulling you under.
The scent of rain on moss-covered skin,
the ache of a lover’s absence like abandoned roots.
It is the jealousy of spring for summer,
the slow, reluctant regrowth after ruin,
the murky depths of wanting too much,
an orchard of hands grasping for something forbidden.

BLUE DROWNING IN YOU
Love is deep, too deep, uncharted
the cold of a midnight confession,
saltwater tears licking the lips of the lost.
Oh can you taste it,
Fingertips pressing into the tide,
swallowed whole by the weight of longing.
Ocean rush past but what is left,
It is the hush of hands clenching the past,
A face that looks forward with eyes sewn to the back of one's head,
The needle ******,
the drowning gasp of “stay,”
the reflection of a face no longer your own,
the endless stretch of sky that will never be held.
As you left drowning in a storm cloud that lingers.

INDIGO HAUNTED & HOLY
Love is ink smeared across shaking pages,
Dripped between the margins of what we call self,
The confessor and the confessions,
a bruise dark and deep beneath the skin,
a candle flickering against the bones of a cathedral while angels sing a song that there are no words to,
It is poetry carved into collarbones, engraved and cut in deep,
shadows stretching long in the absence of light,
Can you see it ?
Can't you feel it ?
Can you touch the abyss?
a hymn hummed through clenched teeth.
The ghost of fingertips on a locked door,
The key lost forever yet you try to find it,
the question of whether love is prayer or possession, obsession
Never answered with reasonable thought,
a soul bound to another, bleeding violet,
Oh and how it's bleeds.

VIOLET DEATH & REBIRTH
Love is the last breath before surrender,
Gasping trying to lung grab each breath, life or death
the soft violet of a sky that has given up the sun.
Fields of flowers you will never walk within, smell or taste or touch,
only observe from a distance if you lucky
A funeral and a resurrection in the same whisper,
Life longs for laughters edge as you caress the nothing seeking something,
someone,
somehow,
petals crushed beneath careless footsteps,
Foot prints left,
Then erased, then followed
Into a space we no longer recognise
the taste of yesterday of dusk on parted lips.
Lick them and tell me what you really taste
It is the ache of knowing and the bliss of forgetting,
a name held on the tongue like an incantation,
Chant my name, chant for love
the promise that love never fades
only shifts, only shatters, only shines anew.

THE WHITE LIGHT, BLACK HOLE
Break it apart and it’s nothing but fractures,
bend it through glass and it becomes everything.
Love is a prism—raw,
burning, relentless.
Every shade, every wound, every wonder
spilled across the sky,
bleeding into
forever.
Love refracted is everything
Love broken is nothing.