A Multi-Color Romance

Your heart is soft around the edges like watercolor,

love painted in pretty shades of pink and blue.

Whenever we touch my heart feels a little blurry, too -

your lips are painted in the same colors.

If everything is a metaphor for everything else,

And I have no doubt that it is,

then the two of us were painted together,

the watercolors blended together where they touch,

except the artist used the whole rainbow

instead of a few shades.

Most people’s lives are painted in acrylics or oil pastel -

definite lines and sharp edges.

Nothing starts where it shouldn’t,

and all the colors are distinct.

Maybe my life used to be this way too,

but, at least in terms of us,

what I used to think of as a single chapter

is often actually a whole book;

a continuous stanza that doesn’t make a lot of sense

but still feels nice to touch.

If everything is indeed a metaphor for everything else,

then I suppose this poem is a metaphor for us, too;

incomplete, messy, and probably out of order,

but still beautiful,

like you.

Like us.