First time I saw you in green … it was not a shirt.

First time I saw you in red sweater.

You don’t know you stroke a string so loud:

Loud enough to make me a deserter.

Since when?

Did I start to love pink and purple?

Not red Not green not these two colors:

Under whose spell I had been long bound.

Not that I don’t love them:

I just deserted -

From them,

From all.

O give me something in between!

O give me something softer!