honeysuckle: poems by colleen cosette goodman

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I imagine us in a church,
Hands intertwined,
Organ music playing softly in the background; Sheppard Me O God, or Ave Maria
I sit in the pews, decked out in flowers, the smile coated in pink never leaving my lips because you are here, beauty in all your respects.
Each day I fall you for just a bit more, your soft, the way my cheek can fall upon your back, my arms around your stomach.
I am coated in all shades of pink; the words I speak are drenched in fuschia, my skin like a sunset, my lips flushed coral, my hair like a pale ballet slipper.
I bite into a watermelon, catch the flesh with my teeth, and pink water runs down my chin. I smile with the seeds stuck in my teeth; you laugh.
My love for you is hot pink; blushing, passionate. My love for you is wide and spanning, like acres and acres of cherry blossoms.

The sixth of July, 2016