Sea-green, the depths
of liquid mirrors
reflecting her soul as
they follow your pen's
worship of her, arms folded
between black lace
and steel flashing in the sun,
flecks of foam born
upon the sea, given life
by her laughter.

Cedar-brown, the edges
flowing in, like roots
cast into the ocean vast
as she reads, slender fingers
skimming feather-light over
cool, cream pages, the dancing
brown tendrils snaking through
her eyes like the stain
of ink in a book.

Chocolate-brown, the very core
of her, with her scent
like woodsmoke as she
holds you close in the
waters of a clear, cold
lake, her eyes darkening
with the coming of
the dusk over the waves.

Amber-gold, her eyes
when she takes your hand
and whispers softly
that she loves you.