Love is not red
But jet-black
Like the inside of a moaning cello;
Dark but warm,
Secluded and safe,
Secure but trembling on
Two everlasting notes
Sliding through an endless thrill.
Love is not red but ultramarine,
An ocean of immeasurable strength,
Pacific,
At times blustery,
Deep, mysterious,
And beautiful.
Love is silver-gray
Like the color of the sound
Of a clock's second hand
Chipping its way through eternity
Love is verdant,
A forest,
Lush,
vast, Wild,
Enchanting.
Love is cosmic latte,
the color of all light in the universe,
boundless,
timeless.
Love is not red
But yellow,
Not the coward,
But the bold yellow streak
Of early morning sunlight
That slants through the window
And invades the bed
Where the anatomy of bliss
Sprawls naked.
By Pastilan
This is an old one, wrote this poem while waiting for my next class, that was more than a decade ago