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.