A Recollection of Our Duet

The colour Pink was her favourite
She who loved how its tender hues
Merged all too delicately
With the harshness of Green.
Both their positions at the end of the wheel creating a contrast of soft intensity.
Like a cherry blossom's divine fragility
As its petals litter the mottled grass.

So I decorated myself with shades of her heart.
Drinking the slick birthed from aloe vera
In hopes its potion will plant roots within me
And reach through
Turning me to gardened hues
Merging perfectly with the floral shade of her blush.

Yet all the colours in the rainbow could not sustain our love.

Of this I am neither sad nor satisfied.
Most of my harboured feelings I struggle to explain
Nothing existing within gravity could translate my pain.
But for the dull ache forever lingering in my chest
Finding its way to the softest spot beneath my breast
And pushing further and further until I cave
Till the only remnants of our colours lie atop my grave.

Regret is as bitter
As roots that never grow.
In vulnerability,
Will I allow it consume me.
So that your Pink
May match my Green once more.
Taking us back to all those years before—

If only for a moment in time.