The Purple Pants

I bought a pair of pants today

The shade of patriarch purple

They besieged my body like an invading glove

And I surrendered

They were made just for me


I knew I could take off the tags

As soon as the first leg slid in

When I examined my reflection

I knew we were a match made in heaven

And I was the envy of the mirror


My eyes strayed to my curves

And then looked at the rest of me

And back to my curves

And were forced to avert their gaze

And wandered back again


I eventually took them off

To wear the next day

But then I read the label

Wash before wearing to preserve color


I had a dilemma

Short term desire against long term satisfaction

Did it matter when I first wore them

Not in a year from now

When the color still clings to the denim like it was fresh off the rack


But it matters right now

At this very moment

When the beautiful pair of purple pants stares at me


Waiting to be worn


We make eye contact

I stare at them

They stare at me

We are in an impasse


But then I turn away and remember

They are just a pair of purple jeans

Until my mind conjures a memory

A memory of them on me


And my curves

My eyes linger on my curves

Three months later

My eyes linger on the white marks

The discoloration

The faded beauty

Of the once glorious purple pants


Now it’s decision time

Do I buy another pair of patriarch purple pants

Or do I settle for the less-than-fabulous pair in my closet

They’re just a silly pair of trousers



In order to feel good

I have to look good

Less-than-fabulous is not an option

I can never settle.


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