Doves

When I'm old I might appreciate
the energy it took walking around
wrapped so tight, even relaxed,
hands shook.

Maybe then I'll allow myself pink
undoubtedly you as well.
I never did relish purple
and who else would stand still

for my spinning about
like some toy flung across the room?
Or a child left stunned in fascination
or maybe frustration?

Yes, in the end it's bound to be pink,
you, and the theory that choice
existed on some level.
For now I'll just try to figure

if today we're friends
or if we're lovers.
Perhaps watch for the gulls
that when blurred just right
look to be doves.