last word

lady,
you are close
can I describe you?
you are close
enough to hear.
it's a question

of making you up
like the dresses
you designed
lacked colour until
you met him.

he hated green:
the scandal
of algae
mistletoe
fleshy moss
that never listens.

he described you
only in blue
like ink
eyes, bruises
your open wardrobe
like a vein.

then the jealous
open-jawed
dripping
sky
purpled his heart
claimed him.

Now like a girl
proud of the grass
you sway
on the verge
not verdant or new
but
all in green.