izz_midnight

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. 

i stand beneath-
thy broken arms
which once stretched so lovingly
towards thy father sun.

When you pass by,

you will sigh a small “hi.”

and

(of course),

I may not be near–

enough to respond

and