Colours

(…and now,
there are colours)

grey roses in my backyard burst into crimson
as I speak to them of flowers in your garden

this is new and I am afraid I might too
burst into different shades of red and blue
the next time someone speaks about you.

it is nothing like growing petals from your touch,
it is more like looking for my ghost and
finding it tangled up in your obsidian hair,
like as if at last, it has found its resting place.

and who am I to say otherwise
because the truth is, in you I have found
my colours and my haven too.

Sharodi H.
11/03/2022