my walls were of lavender
because that is the shade of sunset
in the fleeting minutes
between dim and dark
when there is yet a hope of beauty
mixed with a pall of repose
that slight divide between
seeing and not being aware of seeing
that special moment as
sky's slight slivers wink on in surprise

my days oft echoed lavender
while telling tales of crimson
and barking orange,
and myths of white and yellow
yet none among the spectral stripes
were paints more nearly brushed
than pale of purple's hue

my heart is colored lavender
tween day and night's collision
soft slipping up to note the fray
then down beneath commotion
your prism's mark most lately
split my colors wide
igniting traces long forgot
to sweep my sleep aside