In so strange time of beautyberries

when every hour swung abrupt from grief to glee

and back to grief once more

the sky was bright, the sky turned brutal dark

the early evening air was deadly ice

the cozy moon shone out round cheeked

the deep December after-midnight air

proved sudden balmy, weirdly sweet

Embrace and goodnight kiss surprised

so brief! hushed! chaste! yet somehow beautiful

And after early lively talk, wine, song

parting conversation earthbound

dull dangers of dim lights

glum threats of fractured bones

Beneath it all lurked simple truth

something sudden manifest

earlier that same December day

Halfhidden on a small shop's tight-packed rack

a dainty kind of garment, never seen before —

magenta purple, velvet, silk

a fragile, most unlikely . . . bra?

bralette, perhaps? or camisole?

haven, sanctuary

a gentle curvy purple place

to softly hold two breasts

***

(part 2 of "magenta velvet" follows)