My favorite color is you.
Up until our eyes met,
I think it would be tedious to answer such a question.
Just...I didn't really have a favorite color anymore,
but I did when I was a kid,
and back then, that color was green.
It's a color that reminds me of when nothing really mattered,
of the woods my companions and I would get lost in as children,
and yet, somehow,
we would always make it back just in time for dinner,
lead by our mothers' voice.
It reminds me of my brother and the adventures we would have--
even on rainy days, how we would pack our bags and run away from home
to within the clutter of our room.
It brings me back to my childhood
and who I was as a kid
worry-less, carefree, and wild
barefoot and standing tall
in the unknown the world had to offer.
As a child,
I waded my way across the shallow stream,
a roaring sea beneath my feet.
I was carried by my parents,
my feet merely skimming the still waters,
and my head never left the sky.
But at some point
I wanted to climb down off their shoulders
and reach out my hand--
just to know what the water felt like.
Now I'm older,
growing just as fast as the hues around me.
Maybe a little slower.
These tints and tinges pasten
and I become a part of the culture
this world has to offer.
But I find the same wild of my youth
in your eyes;
the same wilderness I long to live in again
when our glance meets.
I recognize the child I miss so much
in your joyful nature.
I recall who I was as an adolescent
in your insouciant colors.
I see the me I wish I am,
the me I was,
the me I want to be
in those lively eyes
in your giddy smile
in that lighthearted laugh.
I see the person I might become,
no longer overwhelmed and beaten down by the many hues,
if only you choose to take the colors
from your palette
and apply them to my canvas.
And I'll try not to tinge your
painting of frisky complexions
too much.
