you make me want to read all of the books that have ever graced my hands so that maybe someday
I’ll be able to configure the words that I need to be able to describe how it feels when you
grace my hands. there are things that were
before you that did not mean anything but now they mean something and
my god I am so happy that they mean something like
night time on the porch or keeping a lighter around in case you lose yours.
The first time I met you, you turned bright blue and so I knew I would
end up with you, eventually: it’s why I persisted with my hands around
your strong shoulders-
only the most divine people are blue. You love me like blue, calm and passionatley
and when the first color I see in the morning is you-
the gray doesn’t sulk into my bones, just quite yet.
blue is not sad when blue is the color of you, and you
are the color that paints over the blemishes of the sickened world that I live in.
baby, it’s all blue with you
and I don’t know how to say that, so I’ll read these books until my eyes ache
maybe someday I’ll know.