COLOURS

Simple then,
Simply colours,
Untouched by censure.
The colours of the heart.
We did not paint them there,
The green of envy,
The blood red rage.
'tis but a soul in refraction.
Simple then,
To feel those colours,
Untouched,
Undistilled,
And while reflecting
On the same,
Be fulfilled,
But give no name.
Untouched,
Unashamed.