Colour

I don’t remember how long I had sat there,

The concrete wall against the curve of my spine.

Its unyielding strength like a lover’s embrace,

I had gazed unseeingly at the distant lights.

“Are you even listening?”

He had demanded peevishly.

I had nodded absently and glanced down

At the frayed hem of my black jeans.

“I love you,” he said, and

I heard the ‘but’ in the silence.

“I love you but…

It ain’t your fault but…

Not your shortcomings but…

I just like the colour I leave behind,

I love the colour red.

I blame those blue films with white cheeks,

Sorry, chicks” he said.

I had laughed then,

And he had been puzzled.

I had laughed until

I could laugh no more.

“You are hilarious,” I managed to blurt out.

“It ain’t a joke babe,” he tried to say.

“That is exactly why it’s funny darling,”

I had patted his brown hand and looked away.

The red glow of the cigarette had mesmerized me then

And the white smoke had filled the space.

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