Purple has always been my favorite color,
Starting with Mama’s lavender bedroom
And the violet birdcage she made
From pipe cleaners and tulle
That hung from the light above her bed.
Wisteria, impossibly beautiful, dripped
In the garden of my childhood home
And I knew it was the color of fairies’ wings
And the robes of queens in story-books
The dusky hue of pansies, grapes, old wine.
So of course you’d be painted purple,
Naked goddess of the night,
Your impossibly lush and beautiful bosoms
Tipped in claret, his breath in my ear a reminder
That some birds are vibrant robin red-breasts
And some are aged feathers, pipe cleaners, and tulle.