Primary colour

Lying on ground too hard to notice,
softened by the autumn fall

Entwined behind eyes softly shut
scribing on shared skin,
lost in the transience of now.

Wanting more I reach for the touch
of tomorrow but spiral into a mood
of melancholy

whipped by the wraith of filial duty,
held by the chains of Oxford blue.

Blue that is a colour that cannot be
made by mixing two colours together.