"Aubergine"

The water bled green, and her shoes shed red
onto the sidewalk.
Something in her aubergine dress soothed passersby
A textile with fibers of fire sewn in
Exalted by eyes that scanned each rim
And she walked.
Some cold draft came over,
a kind that waved and rustled the shades at night
Was it God? Was it the man who walked past sight?
She felt their eyes on her
Movements that tingled her bones, like vibes from a guitar
And she walked.
The yellow of the sun plundered down, into the gold mine of society
And then and there awoke each thing
Each fragment of our world.
Their hearts squeezed like putty, as they ran across the grass
Barefoot, leaving crinkled bits of green footprints
Lacing each particle with their happiness.
She watched them, and watched, and felt what they did
Knowing the times they flew their kites,
there was some other perlaceous hand, holding on.
And she walked.