why is love only red?
maybe it is black,
like that night
we layed under stars
blue;
like the sky
when we layed under trees
yellow;
the colour of flowers you gave me
now bookmarks in some of my books
gray;
like the winters
you held my hands
green;
like the grass
we walked barefoot on
brown;
like the earth
we together planted plants in
and ofcourse red,
the colour of blood
you made me bleed.
white;
like your skin
after you died.


© k. k.