A Similar Hue

I walk with the author 

      of scent and sound - 

a sculptor of shape 

      and shade beside 

my destiny-tread. This 

       truth will not blend.

Her eyes called what 

       seemed a similar hue, 

not true but coloured 

       with a life and line - 

shades and flickering 

       raises, glimpses glinting 

at me: too hungry 

      for anything more than 

a pulped, puckered depth 

      filmed with the day-surface.