purple is the the first day of october, when
strangers eats your bones for breakfast and
your mother calls you beautiful for the first time
purple is every corner you've ever passed
with your friends and family
with cigarettes and candy
purple is him looking at you but seeing
a child that smells like museums in France
purple is the bitter taste of dry wine
and a fragile boy you once knew so well
purple is loving someone who
will never love
you back