Our Skin Was the Colour of Caramel

The sky is blue, mixed with milk
And the bird is as red as a race car

The flowers are pink like a sweet sixteen
And soft as its chiffon dress

The house is an ancient flaking grey
And its wooden shutters are loaves of bread painted with honey

The hammock is a rolled-up banner of equality
And the sand is like brown sugar on a bowl of porridge

The sun, meanwhile, coats everything in egg-wash
And bakes all of the colour into my memory

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