I’m sure it is.
The glowing light which ripples its way through my body.
It has to be yellow.
Not a bright yellow, not a dark yellow, but a subtle yellow.
A yellow with the grace of a dancer, the grace of a feather gliding towards it’s resting place.
A warmth that flecks those around it.
Little, sunny specks, shimmering like gold, preserving feelings like you would anything else.
The secret they seem to whisper in your ear.
The secret that is so wonderful.
So wonderful it can it pass you lips.
The yellow embrace, of happiness.