Is it that you play with colours
Or, colours fancy playing with you?
They seem to relish your palm and fingers more
Than lending life to shapes from an Artist’s palette
The Red has borrowed few finer hews from your cheeks
And the Black paled before your soapnut-seed eyes
The Blue stopped in its track sprinting with your veins
Your hand has turned into a veritable touchstone of sorts
As the spectral colours began to gauge their wavelengths
And in tribute
Pay a sparkling sheen wherever you grace.