Photo by Andres Perez on Unsplash
First it was pink.
I wore it like a Disney princess,
and drew with it flowers in a field.
Delish, it made my mouth water
as cotton candy in the fairs.
Then came red.
I embraced it with my first period,
put it on as shiny lipstick
(and smudged it on the cocktail glass
of a stranger in the club).
I tried it on as undergarments
to be worn on New Year's eve.
And now
it's turned maroon.
I savour it in the spark of a wine glass
through the falling sunset
and cherish it in the scars and bruises
that time has stamped on my skin.
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