When I'm old I might appreciate
the energy it took, walking around
wrapped so tight, even relaxed
hands shook.

Maybe then I'll allow myself pink,
undoubtedly you as well.
I never did relish purple,
and who else would stand still

for my spinning about
like some toy flung across the room,
or the child left stunned in fascination
or maybe frustration.

Yes, in the end it's bound to be pink,
you, and the theory that choice
existed on some level.
For now I'll just try to figure

if today we're friends,
or if we're lovers.
Perhaps watch for the gulls,
that when blurred just right,
could be doves.