Blue

TW: Mention of death of a grandparent

 

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Blue

Rolled in with the tide

lengthened my limbs and

widened my hips and

wore down on my eyes—

now curtained by glass,

my reflection snaps into 

perfect focus

and it is unfamiliar

 

Blue

I remember the sky looking

a bit more saturated

a bit less gray

sailors could have journeyed across it,

slicing through the pastel waters of the day—

and in the night schools of fish swam in it

sending messages in flashing silver—

and blue whales hummed their

unknowable songs 

in the depths

 

Blue

Time’s march is marked in the

shifting of the hue of 

the lips of old men

in the coffin, my grandfather’s were

not blue at all

time must have stopped its march, then

time must have become ageless, and

I think I felt older than time

at that moment

 

Blue

Studies say that blue light will

render me blind one day and

perhaps I want it to so 

reminders will be invisible to me:

those of a time when the 

past had a color I could remember and the

present had too many to focus on and the

future was full of ones I couldn’t imagine

couldn’t if I tried

 

Blue

I think my eyes reflect it now like the

cold dome of Earth’s atmosphere,

 

Blue

Is that the name of the

pain pooled in my chest?