to the stars who listen: poetry

28. shades of purple

purple is sad pink, mauve is recovering blue

as she begins to thaw her frozen frame

and get over you.

amethyst paints galaxies

and sparkles like an invisible crown

upon the head of a powerful woman

draped in mulberry silk,

a lipstick or a tone of voice

or an evening gown.

wine glitters, tempting,

on the counter

and before she leaves for work

she tells herself she won't drown

herself in purple again

because her heart is scarlet with love

and his is arctic blue with none.

lavender lies blossom innocently

on her front lawn.

on her way home from work

the winter sunset is streaked

with heather.

this love is sad pink,

this love is recovering mauve.

i would rip the purple from

galaxies and flowers

just to call you my own.