In my locket holds colors of my love’s soul.

Red like the pomegranates she grows. The stains they leave on my lips when she brushes her thumb against them.

Violet like the flowers. Flourishing from her heart, mind, and body. Never wilting.

White like her teeth when piercing my skin. Ripping layers off. Leaving me bare.

But the world is black and white. It won’t accept the colors I have or the things that brought them to me.

Therefore, the locket must remain closed.

Only I will know of the beauty she brings.