My blue and your blue
aren’t the same—isn’t that beautiful?

My eyes and yours
could look out over
the water in the same place
but the way I see the waves
crashing against the shore,
and the wind rustling the grasses
on the cliffs beside,
and the color of the sky,
cloudless and wide,
will never match yours.

My blue and yours
can never be the same.

Seas turn wine-dark
and skies burn ochre
and I wish I could climb
into your head,
peer out through your eyes
and see a rainbow I never
imagined.