When you breathe in the crisp morning, it is the color of the air.
When you shiver on a winter's night, it is the color of your lips.
When his fingers skirt across your bare back, it is the chill that zigzags through your veins
When he doesn't appear and your phone doesn't ring, it is the color of the throbbing in your throat
When you sigh and walk away, it is the color of your breath
When you get a horrible call, it is the color of the fist that clenches your heart
When you hold his hand in the hospital room, it is the color of your tears
When the life abandons his body, it is the color of his gaze falling away from your face
When you think of him, it is the color of your soul
It is not the color you saw when you met
It is the color you saw when he left