An image: A morose girl sits and waits for her lover.
An image: The lover walks over to the girl, with a bent posture; looking at the floor.
An image: the girl glances with wide eyes, almost toward the ceiling; longingly.
An image: the girl’s thoughts wander to the lilacs they always had on their kitchen table in their first apartment together; she thinks about the way they dried out and died but still looked beautiful, even as the water dried out of the vase.
An image: His thoughts wander to the girl and why she was always killing those damn flowers, even though the fragrance always choked him.
An image: Purple. Her favorite color and the color of all her favorite flowers.
An image: Her lips, frozen in the winter. Purple.
An image: Amethyst that she always kept on the table, broken from a geode. Purple.
An image: the red wine that stained her favorite white shirt from laughing so hard she spewed it all over the table. Purple. She misses laughing so hard her shoulders shake and she doubles over, falling to the floor in drunken joy.
Images, images, images. Purple.
Lilacs, amethyst geodes, those blue and red popsicles kids suck on in the Summer. Purple.
Her favorite color. His favorite sweatshirt. Purple.
The colors of her favorite Spring sunset. Purple.
Lilacs, lavender, lust. Purple.
Amethyst and flowers. Purple.
Her last love letter signed with a heart.