
...even when
the words grace me with their presence,
they don't always choose to step
delicately into the world, pink shoes
treading softly over the white horizon.
- from invitation by Mackenzie Connellee
....
All by myself I am a huge camellia
Glowing and coming and going, flush on flush.
I think I am going up,
I think I may rise——
The beads of hot metal fly, and I love, I
Am a pure acetylene
Virgin
Attended by roses,
By kisses, by cherubim,
By whatever these pink things mean!
Not you, nor him
Nor him, nor him
(My selves dissolving, old whore petticoats)——
To Paradise.
- from Fever 103° by Sylvia Path
*
the sunset of me a flock of galahs screeching the sky


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going...
(our own tiny ballerina left yesterday, she who is pink from head to polished toes, that beautiful child. i miss her.)
the words grace me with their presence,
they don't always choose to step
delicately into the world, pink shoes
treading softly over the white horizon."
My pink shoes do not always tread softly either. :)
yes, that image is sheer joy
i, myself, am unabashedly in love with pink
So many different directions here.