Regal

It was the color only
for royalty, once.
On pain of death
no one would dare
to stand and
drape themselves
in my regal plum, my
saturated hue,
hubris on display
in the lush folds
of my wine-soaked robes.
But now, in this age
when any, when all
live better than kings
they don the garb
of high priestesses
unknowing, invoking
the goddesses with
intimate caresses
of spun cotton, woven
into tapestries of power
they wear on their skin
for the bargain price
of less than an hour’s labor.
We are all regal, now.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s