Purple

Her thoughts are grandiloquent, for she is magnificent; she is Purple. Delusions of grandeur mean nothing to her, she is deluded with such a conviction that the very concept of her being wrong does not exist. She is not wrong, she is Purple and she is perfect. There will be no one as magnanimous, no one as fantabulous, as erudite or as wonderful as her. She is, after all, majestic and regal – she is, after all, Purple. Violet and Mauve and Lilac; all the hues encompass her; she is everything, because, she is the ubiquitous Purple WHORE, borrowed to everyone.  A grotesque Marie Antoinette, even An affair of the necklace could not tarnish her Purple beauty.  She is obese - engorged by the conception of her own worth.  That Purple pulchritude...