Is your love more romantic now that you are just carbon footprints embedded in fake time and space like Facebook scrolling - the manic mind is shooting and pounding out past like ancient inscriptions to the notes of our songs ("Today, I feel like pleasing you...") now in a forbidden folder far past my will is willing to reach out or more like ballet movements in our graceful ways of dancing and moving and waving and smoking - I can see you presently from across the street – mirage me again with your lips- they were so purple the last time I saw you-like bruising apples - you keep choosing to kiss the ground so hard -all that biting and blurring- your eyes all roughed up and watering and my stomach is growing and knotting and twisting and turning and falling into purple next to the vein that connects to the heart - I am still looking for you- wanting you to look at me - sooner than it takes for the moon to light up- all that dark sky- is it really purple or does dreaming in colour only coat the places somewhere half between red and the idea of loving you forever and the coldest of blue and knowing you-yes, you will always be my lover, in purple.
-Jenna Kennedy
-Jenna Kennedy
