the sky paints a familiar purple a lilac trailing in the form of clouds its vivid reflection dancing upon your skin and your fingertips, and mine, and the corners of your lips.
sometimes, it's in the bruises on your knuckles or the cold blueberries on somber evenings the way lavenders adorn your long dark hair. windswept yet sightly. and your darling voice would lull me to sleep and send my soul alight.
but time and again, its the middle ground for the head and the heart the brief moment between sunset and evenings the mauve that says i love you without need for words.
assurance and certainty placed among the berried table the courage to wade in it's deepest depths. avert your gaze skyward and see even the vibrant heavens can be a place where you can lay your soul to rest.