you wore pink
and all I could think about was
us at seven years old
sitting in freshly mown grass
with sticky legs
braiding wildflowers for our moms
and you admitting
how much you hated pink
because it was such a girly color
and you didn't want
to be just a girl.
your favorite color was orange
so we ate tangerines for lunch
and crept into my neighbor's yard
underneath the fence
sitting in his garden
sheltered by trees
and overgrown flowers.
now I look at you
and I can only see us
at seven years old
eating tangerines
and sneaking under fences.
with wildflower petals in our hair.
you looked beautiful,
but you were wearing pink.
// THE FEELING OF NO LONGER RECOGNIZING THE PEOPLE YOU LOVED MOST OF ALL.