I Know Your Hue

I see your gray
A deadly cloud
Pale on vivid mornings
Heavy on lifeless mournings

I taste your pink
A sweet watermelon
Never pungent as strawberry
Always bland and watery

I hear your blue
A steady river
Peaceful rocks sleep on the bed
Silent as if no word has been said

I smell your red
An ancient wine
Prunes, peppers, plums, and cherries
Home to so many memories

I feel your black
Pitch-dark tar
Vicious, as I drench my hand in pain
Terrifying, only to know it leaves a stain

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