The Blue Glass- Chapter I

Her hair smells like freshly grown cloves,
I get moved by her fleeting expressions.
She is called Blue,
but her skin reminds one of the the prettiest white.
I live and breathe in and out of her bones.
She is mine and I am hers.

Who am I? She would be sketching me soon enough.
You see, I change a lot depending on her thoughts.
One day, I gallop across the hidden woods,
the next day I find myself in a busy market.
If I could colour her moods, it would range from
the palest pink to the boldest black.
She is a wild thing you know but gentle deep down.