You remind me of color.

Perhaps it's because,
Of your love for it,
And all the beauty,
It creates.

Or maybe it's because,
When I am around you,
Just like with colors,
The world seems so vibrant.

But I suspect the reason lies,
Within the fact that you,
Like color,
Are not what you claim to be.

Light's wavelengths come down,
And you absorb them,
Reflecting back everything else.

So you see,
You are not red.
You are everything but that.

And if you are color,
I am the cones in our eyes,
Interpreting you as what you reflect,
You are to the world.
Believing your facade to be true.