They call her Violent Violet
for the purple bruises that bloom
dangerously deep and disturbingly dark
along the tops of her knuckles.
To her it’s decorative floral.
In fights she clutches violets
offering their vicious beauty
to any contending adversary.
She’s a volatile force of nature.

Green, I've learned, is the most greedy of colors. Green demands attention, a lot like you do, but green also represents jealousy, a lot like I do. You are the prettiest of greens, like the color of your eyes and the grassy hill we spent the day picking wildflowers and laughing under the sun. I am the green that's so dark and mixed with spite and anger and sickness. The green that's so bitter you can taste it in your mouth, and I suppose you got tired of inhaling it altogether.

the stars are yellow
the moon is yellow
the sun is yellow

my sheets are yellow
in it is my fellow
his eyes are mellow

he takes my hand
and I take his
and together
              we create lovely yellow

Sour.
Bitter.
Bright.
The sky before the night.
The leaves in the fall.
The rhythmically bouncing basketball
The poet’s nightmare.
The fire’s glare
The bottle of prescription pills
The pumpkins on our porch, still.