I asked, when we met,
what your favourite colour was,
you said it was brown.

I’d never heard that,
but you gave it away, like –
it wasn’t precious.

You’re celestial.
platinum is wallpaper,
earth is galactic.

I can see it now.
Brown – the way it is to you –
a rainbow in one hue.

It’s not the colour
of mud and dirt and bruises,
lice, and house spiders.

It’s autumn mornings,
warm coffee and caramel,
lightly toasted toast.

Squirrels and cellos,
sunset lightshow filtered through
your hair like stained glass.

Freckles as star maps:
individuality,
spray-painted on skin.