I love the color pink
This muted shade of blaze,
Which under unlit sanctuary becomes
a whimsical suggestion.
It is a playful spice the scent of which
Heats my sequestered recollections
Youthful frolic and chattering
until secret images came to be
When speaking to mariposa blossoms
entered into dialogue with pixies
and needling through clover discovered 4-leafed magic.
We were the Star Bellatrix serenade wishing for flight.
and when covering our eyes invoked invisibility.

words © malai carrara