Colors, II

Amethyst, I saw first--
rich as to be almost opaque
except for tiny rivulets of Turkish Rose
running through velveteen
violet, shreds of moon
hinting at forgotten lights,
remembered textures: the slate gray softness of sorrow,
the russet rough of bliss, tender billows,
stones merging beneath a teal waterfall.
You, the staunch magnificence in Blue.

I line up Alabaster, Amaranth, Amber, Ambivalence:
lavender and lilac at war, crawling
without stealth, shamelessly creeping
over a helpless bower, your laughter,
golden, echoing across the loveliness
above you, and I, lost
in the suddenness of this discovery--
it is possible to melt and remain whole.

I gather this garden into a bud of colors,
calyx of memory holding up
sheen, shimmer, soul,
the sharpness of remembering,
hovering as the roll of your name
against my tongue:
startling staccatos of starlight
wrap an evening painted sapphire,
and I say: Carmine, Carnelian, Copper, Coral, Crimson
I and my (here, I insert
Obsidian)obession with words
that hardly ever achieves clarity except
in the onyx of your eyes--

Your eyes, my inexhaustible well of color,
story upon story of magic,
submerging my alertness into aquamarine waters.
Here, I swim to the surface,
in my hands:

Verdigris, Vermilion, Viridian.