Staring at your name is
Green at the end of a dock on the other side of a bay.

Nights in the kitchen are
Yellow like a monster's skin.

My lipstick stain on your cheek is as
Red as a letter on my shirt.

Fighting with you is
Black like thick blood, clotting on a London street.

Your eyes match my eyes;
Blue as an evening party.

Our love was as violent as
Violet, tying her hair up with a thought.

And shame was
Grey, like Oliver's porridge.