Purple

Purple-stained fingernails

Set off peaches and cream complexion.

I wait for you, buoyant,

Pace the room, placing each

Teacup, pen, and barrette

In perfect disarray:

An illusion of apathy,

Carefully controlled.

My green eyes lined black,

Changed to match your dark,

And this is all but natural.

I pace and pretend that I

Don’t need your touch,

The pinks and blush;

That you don’t make me weak,

Don’t toss me between black and pink:

Between I miss you. You can’t have me.

I want you. I don’t.

Someday I’ll try to forget

How you never came.

--Alicia (2011)