Colour

Let us talk in rapid bursts of colour, you and I.

Like ripe mangoes bursting out of their skin in our hands,

the juice running streams down our

elbows.

Like the brief fury of red in the air,

when someone throws gulaal at you in the frenzy of holi.

Like the first time we kissed in a dark stairwell,

and it was crap, and I said so-

The words tumbling out of my mouth

and into your big eyes, which took no offence

but looked lazy back at me, smiling ‘Then teach me’.

So I did, and it wasn’t much better-

but there were stars exploding underneath my eyelids

As i felt your warm mouth,

hesitantly touch

mine.

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