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Pink. Bright, strobing pink.
The concert lights pulled me in tight, with a neon wink.
I used to hold back, but the voices and the clapping brought me to the brink,
And the bass dropped me,
Till I could no longer think.

I remember you were standing there; in pink, peeling, glitter heels; golden hair;
Laughing and letting it go.
You danced like you didn’t care;
Sang like no one was there.
And even though they called you annoying,
I thought, “Hey, at least she’s enjoying herself.”

You taught me how to live,
Pulling me further into throbbing, glowing, bursting noise.
I was an introvert. You were an extrovert.
You laughed me into it. I had no choice.

In the summer, you’d crown me with flowers.
In fall, you’d whisper me slapstick, lipstick chick-flicks.
In spring, you would sing to me pop, till my ears dropped,
Earbuds shared between the two of us.
Or at concerts, we’d waste our last bucks.
In winter, you’d wear your flamingo-clad slippers
And warm me with hysterical, ultra-hyped shrieks or sunbaked sweets.

You’d squeeze me tight or playfully slap me.
Stale, skittle-cookies were your favorite snack, as well as pink frosting,
Or heart-candies with pink candy wrap.

You were the squeaky dew,
The hummingbirds too,
And the bees.
You are the sunglasses and bubblegum that always drive me crazy.
As a girl, you were scratch-and-sniff books.
And you were always imaginary.

Because when a boy (or a man) tries to make himself understand femininity,
He does so quite badly,
And so he thinks that girls are all pink,
Only to be stunned when he finds one.

Stunned by a pink taser-gun.

4 Replies to “Pink”

  1. Ahhhhh!!! I LOVED this one!! Insightful and whimsical all at once. I agree with your mom, I’m going to go back and read it again! Hope all is well with you, I miss ya!

  2. Your artful use of assonance sneaks up on the reader, playfully employing your theme in words as well as rhythm. Well done.

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