Purple as tulips in May, mauve

into lush velvet, purple

as the stain blackberries leave

on the lips, on the hands,

the purple of ripe grapes

sunlit and warm as flesh.

Every day I will give you a colour,

like a new flower in a bud vase

on your desk. Every day

I will paint you, as women

colour each other with henna

on hands and on feet.

from Marge Piercy, Colors Passing Through Us