FAVOURITE
She never said her favourite colour was blue,
But the way she spoke about the sea, I knew
When she spoke, it was as if every word said,
Took her closer and closer home,
O How she would tell stories of her,
Riding waves on boards from shipwrecks,
As if the accidents that sunk the boats,
Were calls for adventure,
She never said her favourite colour was blue,
But the way she spoke about the sky, I knew
How she would brighten up when it was clear,
Like every bit of her craved to finally fly,
You could almost see her wings twitch,
With excitement, she could break its limit,
And finally, be free enough to choose,
Whether this air was worth breathing,
She never said her favourite colour was blue,
But the way she spoke about loving me, I knew
When she saw me, she saw the very shade,
She painted on herself at twilight every day,
I remember in her room, she had painted too,
A layer so thick you could taste it in the air,
She would laugh and say, “It made sense,
It’s all connected I swear”
She never said her favourite colour was blue,
But the way her eyes reflected it, I knew,
No smiles could mask that her favourite thing,
Was that she was like me and I, like her.
~ Frankhie
