Poetry: Purple//Pink

Photography by Joshua Sears

Photography by Joshua Sears

Purple//Pink

The best tastes were whiskey
and a little bit of orange
barefoot on the porch in
sing song lack
of wind.

Later, I
removed my brassiere,
savoring
a tight bit of bite
sucked and concealed
so as not
to stain the skin.

If you were eating plums
they would surface purple
on the temper of my skin.
Plums, warmly sensuous;
their violet is a color
of royalty
and kisses
without
naïveté of
pink

Pink kisses
are
barely born sunsets–
I ask the taco man
if he wants to
sell his wares
for less.

He says ‘no thank you’
and turns away
on hearing
the cinco butchered Spanish
while I hold my dollars.

I sit at my desk thinking
of mountained
shoulders purple
and a stomach
frowning pink and shadowed,
while I wait for a thing
that’s different
to write about.

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