She was a colour
Like a palette
Where they all merged
As a river with the
She was the black of her eyes
Shining through the floating brown
She was the red of her lips
Wearing it like summer sunsets.
She was the yellow of Fall
Like leaves under the gulmohor tree.
She was their orange
And a slight tinge of them both
Tossing in the wind
Like perfumed petals around butterfly wings.
She was the grey of dancing strands
Of curling hair,
She was the mustard of daffodils
In a rose garden
Standing tall and smiling.
She was the blue of my favourite shirt
And the peach of the trousers I paired with it.
She was the green of fresh grass
And the shine of dew on them.
She was the winter's hue
Wrapped around her shaking body.
She was the satin white of jasmine
On her pale death bed
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