We rest our new love on an old bed, bodies pressed close, hands on hearts, toes tickling. We are hopelessly cheesy, but no one ever said cheesy wasn't heartfelt.
"What is this?" you ask me softly, tracing my collarbone with one, two, three, two fingers. "This thing between us?"
"Love?" I ask, and the word seems to change everything, freshen the calm in the room, tint it yellow for some reason. Yellow. Yellow like the walls in your kitchen when you brew hot coffee, waiting ever so impatiently against the counter. Or red, crimson being the first shade the darkness behind my closed eyes turned when we first kissed, as though your lips were somehow slowly both killing and rebuilding me. Yes, perhaps what we have, how I feel, is red.
But there is also blue. Blue like the sky outside the circle window in your room, so bright and young, full of hope and sometimes, insane and inane as it sounds, so very blue it makes me turn away. There is purple, dark purple, the colour of your sheets, and they way they slid off, curled around and framed you the night we first made love and you were gift wrapped and perfect and put together in all the best ways.
Perhaps what we have, how I feel, is al these colours.
Swirls of melted ice cream, an exploded kaleidoscope, the finale of the fireworks brigade. Yes, you have exploded my life against the night sky and I see every colour in creation in this indigo space between us.
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2 comments:
Tabia, I LOVE this, it is beautiful and touching, and excellent, and different for you but it's great. This made me smile and I could picture the colours. The story was vibrant, I loved the descriptions and comparisons, and really everything.
the only thing is I don't find the title fits somehow,not sure why.
but I really enjoyed this Tabia.
Aws, thank you.
The title...well, I won't explain it. But yes, it woudlnt' fit all that well if you don't get it.
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