Unthinkable Pink

When all the world is pink,

it signals the unthinkable –

that each unsinkable amour

you may profess for it or her or him

will never not grow dim and fade away;

or that rare object of your love,

at any sight of you, will not be swayed

by any ardent protestation: it will flee –

and you, emboldened by bewilderment,

will madly run right after it

until, enfolded ever more in pink,

you reach the brink of understanding

that to want to be with somebody

who doesn’t want to be with you

is, as the French say, fou.

Pink awakes the True. 







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