Colorblind

         Colorblind

somewhere there is purple denoting passion
that burns in exile until it's ashen
charred and charmed in nightly browns and greens
camouflaged behind a door and flowery screens

a scent is remnant in the air of lilac
wafting down to the paleness of my back
heaving redly breaths of an aggressive sort
welcomed by you now less blue than your port

but it's night, and by this fading light
we are colorblind
and see only graysiness
yet intertwined, we don't mind
and luxuriate in laziness