purple
is not only the color
flashing in front
of death and draped
over mourning; it’s the tone
of bruised cheeks against
angry layered blushes; it’s
a favorite of my grandmother’s
though she may not
remember
my name when i bring
it to her in puzzle
pieces and
teddy bears

but
it’s also
the color of the orchid
you brought me
with your chapped
heart over
a year ago,
now
in bloom
for the first time
as if to say
let bygones utterly
be
gone and
love
joyfully
flower.