He knew it was blue;
she knew it was green,
but it was never turquoise.
They both knew it reflected
from the deepest ocean
and from the gems in her ears,
but one was here and one was there.
Each breath in was white
and each breath out was black
but it was never grey,
or silver, or blended.
His time was noon;
hers was midday,
but it was never 12 o’clock.
The clock struck a dozen times
and the chimes rang as loud
as bluey green,
but he was right;
she was right,
and it was never turquoise.