The Color of My Love is You

My favorite color isn’t found in a rainbow.

It won’t appear in a fresh humid sky

or be splashed on the pages of children’s books

and painted on murals and walls.

But it is the color of you -

It’s the cocoa sweetness of your dark eyes,

and the golden tint of your bronzed skin.

It’s the single light strand of your raven black hair.

We’re so much the same, and yet,

different when I hold out my arm next to yours.

Next to your coffee darkness I am milk and cream.

The most special thing about me is you.

You are colorless and yet full of color to me.

You exist far beyond the pigments in your skin,

yet I cannot ignore the contrast of our tightly clasped hands

as we walk down the street.

Some people love our unique hue,

but to others, our colors clash.

“Look at them,” they say.

“Those colors don’t go together.”

But we know that we are just right.

We go together.

For the color of our love is neither white nor tan nor brown -

It isn’t even the rainbow.

It’s the whole spectrum of light -

It’s felt like heat in summer.

It’s seen like bright flowers in spring.

It exists beyond the scope of what others can even fathom

and travels through the universe to warm everything it touches.


You, my love, are brown

and emerald and crimson and sapphire and gold.

You are my spectrum, my light, my color.

The color of my love is you.