Yellow
She’s the light that slips through cracks in trees,
a quiet yellow warmth I catch in passing,
something soft I don’t dare touch,
only long for from across the room.
She’s the color I never said out loud,
a flame I watch from a distance,
sunlight caught in a smile I don’t own,
hope folded inside a secret I keep.
When she moves, the world softens;
edges blur, shadows lean closer,
and I’m left holding nothing but silence,
a quiet ache wrapped in golden light.
She’s the yellow I carry in my chest,
a color folded deep in pockets of my heart,
not bright enough to burn me,
but enough to keep me breathing,
enough to keep me up at night.