Crayola

Oh, to be loved like someone’s favorite color,

loyally,

reminding them wherever they go

by a dandelion,

or a bird,

or leaves before they start to change in the fall,

or freckles,

or teeth gaps,

or a meadow cradled in a mountain,

or fresh cotton sheets,

or silver ripples on a pond,

or the way the sky blushes in the morning,

or the depth of a bee’s humming.

*

To be loved like someone’s favorite color,

feverishly,

like the ache for another tattoo,

or biting muscle,

delving deep into the depths

of every shade of you.

*

Your eyes,

your skin,

your bones,

your soul.

*

Oh, to be loved

like someone’s favorite color,

no other reason

but to be chosen by them to be loved by them so.