As soon as she entered his life, he called her his Pink Girl. There was something about her and pink that went together so well. And she wore it like it was hers and hers alone. Blush pink, dark pink, polka dot pink, streaked pink. It absolutely swirled his mind like cotton candy being fluffed around a cone.
He sighed in her sweetness, the delicate, sugary taste of her kiss melting on his tongue. His hands coveted rose petal soft skin tinged with warm flush of passion in afternoon sun. His heart erratically beat trying to find a rhythm matching the beauty before him. Never was there enough of her.
Falling deeper and deeper, he blissfully sank into her clouds, carried away to castle kingdoms where pink gardens held her fragrance while he held the perfect bloom.
(I saw a prompt today for Pink Girl on Twitter for #WrittenRiver. I have so many ideas running around my head with this one, but I decided to just start with this in a quick write. It is just a snippet. Interested to see what you think as this varies a bit from my usual poetry. I wonder if it has any potential…Always welcome your comments and thoughts 💗)