Purple Grape Hair

Purple grape hair,
tip of the finger is cold.
Are you here?

Memories are stalks of
pine trees in lonely winter.
I need to replenish.

There is no new you,
but unique is the way
to your only flawless self.

You put me in a peaceful sleep.
The sadness becomes cheer.
Sunlight won’t be selfish.

Purple grape hair,
the sharp and the keen.
You are never denied.




About chester maynes

poet, and a lover of music and books.
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