This Isn't About (The Color Purple)

I've seen the color purple millions of times.

Seen it splattered on movement boards, brushed lightly on old cars, held as the main button on my remote.

I didn't care for it, not much anyway. It was my friends favorite color for a few years, then my mentors.

But suddenly, when it was yours it seemed as though I couldn't just glance at it anymore.

I look at the color like one more aspect I can admire in you, a thing that makes you not only more human, but another soul I can change for.

If all I have left of you is hues of purple scattered across my life then I will bask in the oceans of its shades, swallowed by its richness as it deepens.

there's some sort of beauty in it now, every fleeting gleam of it is something I think about hours later, recalling you.

I've seen the color purple millions of times, and now I feel there's not enough of it.