Colour

Love 

becomes the colour 

when you wear 

sanguine vermilion 

on your forehead.

From distance, 

though I try to witness 

the embellishment, 

my uncontrollable heart 

coaxes my mind to come near.

Cuddling you, 

I coo umpteen times, 

'I love you'.

Responding to my madness, 

you tousle my hair 

and elbow me. 

Purloining the colour 

from your rosy lips

I release you from my arms.