Olivia McMahon

Blue is a patch of sky.
Look up, you said, remember this for ever.

Green is the green
of the mosses in the forest,
soft and luminous,
that time we thought
would be our last.

And then yellow,
cruel yellow, covering the walls,
yellow curdling inside me
as I waited for your return.

But red — the shout in the dark —
red is the colour that drives us.