This one barely purple -
More violet or lavender,
The shy attempt
Of a sentimental girl
Towards purpleness.
It speaks of tiny spring flowers
Sprigged on clean white cotton.
Now here's a bolder colour,
A bright purple flaunting itself:
'See me', it cries.
'I assert my uniqueness,
I claim my place in the world.'
The flutter of bright silks
On a warm, ripe body.
Dark now, approaching black,
The purple of a two-day bruise,
Of shadows beneath sleepless eyes -
Or autumn berries bursting on your tongue
And spilling sweetness.
