izz_midnight

I am many people and one person.

I am the poet, who sees in shades of red and orange,

Red hair and pale skin that refuses to tan under the summer sky.

That girl married her city, her people,

If purple is the hardest color
For the eye to see
Then maybe all us purple-lovers
Are seers to the fairylands
Where dawn spirits sing
And poet bells ring
Harbingers of the night
To our awaiting ears.

We're backstage, giddy with nerves and

tired out of our minds, whisper-laughing as we mess 

with our hair, with each other, try to put on makeup in the dark.