Writing

Pink

Pink

I am the scarlet whisper of a kiss.

 I am the soft petal of budding springtime peony.

Yet like the sharp flint of a brilliant diamond I am also hard.

I am the bright crimson flush of a blush upon the apple of your cheeks.

And the translucent bubbles that tickle your nose in a flute of sparkling champagne.

I am sticky and sweet, cotton candy, melting on your tongue beneath the twinkling lights of the fair.

At night, I streak across the twilight sky, a twisted, twirling fiery display of fuchsias and corals.

And a rose by any other name would still bloom, bright and sanguine.

The snapping and popping of gooey bubblegum.

The crinkling of crisp tulle in a tutu,

The satin sheen of a slipper.

I am in all of these things.

But more than anything,

I am the feeling that

On the darkest day,

Your biggest dreams

Can come true.

If you only believe.

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