That’s why if Ma was a color, she’d be pink with her sweetness. A tender flower, a bubbly pop of chewing gum, two scoops of strawberry ice cream. Silly in her girly ways, her color deepens with love, until she glows fuchsia—bright and bold, unstoppable. But when she is not fed the riches that life promises, Ma pales, remaining but a tint above white, a color aching in want.
