Column

Paint to Poetry: In the Pink

8 October 2019

Ruddy cheeks since
I was nine years old
scared of pimples popping
across my face pink
lady apple body shapes
that form when fingers touch.

You rose
into my sight, see
fairy floss at the school fate
passed between our hands
blossoming like cherries
the chapstick we shared.

Touch me, finger
sunsets into soft cries
flushed again, how
fruits that look like me taste
so much better, how
I bury this behind
still bushes of thorn.

Strawberry sickness sugar
on oats I am scared to see
how it really tastes.

Lights pause on you
grapefruit glow lasts
a second on your face
then moves down your neck
spotlight on our heart.

Twenty-three years old
undoing ribbons and realisations
I plant pink orchids in our yard
beneath fruit of all the flavours
shared on our lips.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *