From
<b>'What if I could turn the world purple?'</b>
<span class ='opening'>FORGETTING</span>
by
<b>Mel Frances</b>
[[Play]]
we are so used to the greens and the blues
to the red of dirt,
to the grey of dust
there is a moment the world turns purple
it isn't the first time
millenia ago
before leaves were green, before the chorophyll
everything was purple
[[before]]
the day the world turns purple
buds blink open slowly,
as though just remembering
they can feel an old version of themselves
like a [[layer]] just underneath
the surface of their skin
then we catch ourselves thinking,
questioning,
laughing
in ways we believed [[forgotten]]
when the world turns purple,
the leaves remember a version of themselves
they used to be the layer underneath the surface
remnants of ways once thought
fragments of ideas once held
strong opinions that now seem to come from nowhere
the tallest room in a house has remained
while
all the rest has fallen away
sometimes we feel we have [[changed]]
my breath catches at a song
the notes in my throat
my chest full as i hold it
i feel an urge to dance
hips moving in a dark room
then salt is in my nostrils
the waves are winding me
i am drinking beer in a pub on the seafront and feel a bit tipsy for the first time
i feel brash and brave and anything is possible
i am not scared
there is fire
and the fire is inside me
making me angry
turning my fury to fuel
and my fuel to fury
my breath catches
the selves i have [[forgotten->end]]then we catch ourselves thinking,
questioning,
laughing
in ways we believed forgotten
invitations to return
ours to [[accept]]
or [[reject]]
when the world turns purple,
the leaves remember a version of themselves
they used to be there is a moment where the world is purple
farms are fields of lilac
seas a deep plum
trees sway violet and indigo
bricks, blocks of lavender
it takes a while for our [[eyes to adjust]]