the color of your skin

the color of your skin

I miss the color of your skin
next to mine, how we blend
together, bleed into each other
making a single portrait.

How your voice sings and catches
my deeper tones, an immediate
poem and song through
our words.

And as we attack the world
your gaze and my smile
each flower opens up
a brighter sun warms us
and the wind keeps us cooler than most.

And as we hold hands,
you can not tell which one is yours
except for your shorter finger
and my weathered grip.

But your skin, sweet like caramel
soft like fresh wool,
the sun and the moon fight
to shine their light on you.

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