Purple boys exist in evenings of vanilla twilight. They wear dark cozy overcoats to keep warm in the evening’s snowfall. Purple boys, On the warmed days, Will take you to the ice-cream shop with the wire swirled chairs to treat you in the evening streetlamp light. Purple boys taste raspberry gum in your kiss. They brush back your hair gently, and say that it’s because it’s made of lavender. Purple boys are romantics. They dream of the sweetness of gumdrops, made for someone they love. They’ll gaze at your eyes like they’re made of sunset oceans. Purple boys roam the streets of Paris and Barcelona, your hand intertwined with theirs. They’ll buy you a violet rose and croissant for an anniversary no one else would remember. Purple boys buy thing to remind him of the moment you first met, the moments when you danced and the moments when you kissed. Purple boys keep polaroids in their room of all the moments they loved the most. They keep the beauty alive in the world, no matter what. Purple boys draw with light pencil strokes, unaware of the lacking passage of time. Purple boys tap out notes on a keyboard, to fill their minds and hearts with music. Purple boys live with you in the moments before morning, when the long night is over and the sun is beginning to rise. The purple boy will settle on one knee like the flutter of a butterfly and give you a diamond ring. That’s because Purple boys look towards their future and can’t see it without you.