Yellow

You make me feel yellow.

Your eyes reflect sunlight and the rays dive into my lungs, creating light where there is none.

Each time we touch, each time our hands graze, I swear a monarch is born.

Your laugh creates a sound in the wind and I hear the canaries whistle back every note, as if it was their own.

Your handwriting is the written form of your voice. Your “e”‘s loop into your “a”‘s and your “y”‘s loop like your own golden language.

With every smile, it’s like the world around us has stopped and for a moment, your pure joy is as clear and vivid as Sunday morning sunlight.

Your freckles create constellations far more extraordinary than the mundane mustard ones in the sky.

You make my burgundy soul speckled with yellow.

Even if it’s just for the few hours we are together or the texts sent from mile away,

You make me feel yellow.

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