very colour. it is what i said to you, it is how i think these days. each feeling attached to hundreds or just one, one colour on its own and everything inside of it. i am rarely a monochrome soul, it is called for some days. it is too dark for a life, too hard to live like that, without the fall in its entirety, outside of the way the sun will spread through a cloud, a fog.

these days i am a soft pink, a lot, i like to think of placing small kisses down your spine, each a little softer lighter floatier than the last. i can tell you the first is the darkest and so firm, and the last is nearly too soft to feel it is as close to white as there is, still a little piece of coloured feeling. it is never fast, though.. never the rushing colour of wind carrying the day away. it's an art of sorts, the softest longest lip touches.

i wake up soft greens, a peaches yellow. or i sleep a violent blue, sometimes there is only warm-cool summer sky, blues fading into a light gray-white whisp, it is always feeling, though, and nearly mostly blue.

there is only this love and this life that has no real colour to it. it is all too much and so change, and you are every shade of universe.

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