I love the smell of orange most.
It doesn't go well with purple,
but it represents everything I am not.

I make up for my lack of sunshine by wrapping it around me,
a neckerchief in any season.
I cover up the cracks that leak blue, the scent of
the sleepiest lavender.
I'd rather be gold, a heady sharp awakening - compared to the wispy breeze that settles on my shoulders.
I am tired of sleeping when I'd rather be citrus, shining.