Poem - The colours.

Stealing into my secret liturgy,
I just knew she would be here, 
set before me with the patience of stone.

Her face made beautiful in the colours of stained glass,
I simply had no idea how to begin without her.

Now I’m finally breathing,
and stepping into a coloured world,
I breathe only her.

I begin to think I am somebody.
But as the sun rises, 
I just want so badly for her to keep me.

Quickly now, show me the colours again.
Just a little longer…
I was so damn good to you.

But sitting alone in my nakedness,
and with silence in the halls,
the colours disappear…