My eyes; His eyes

The sky that falls to meet that blue blue sea

This ink

This blue coat with its blue hood that holds me

The lake that I learned to swim in—yes that same one that nearly captured my last blue breath

Willie says blue eyes crying in the rain

Which makes me think of Seattle in the early morning

As I meandered thru the city before class

And that boy who stood outside smoking,

Making me wish that I smoked

But I didn’t so I never talked to him

Instead I left that school and migrated south to where the sky is nothing but bright

And there are not too many rivers

Just giant blue ocean waves that carry surfers and every now and then, you can spot a dolphin.

Tonight is a blue night (not that happy Greek blue either)

I thought about crying because my heart is lonely but I don’t want to mess up my mascara

So instead I sit here chipping the blue polish off my nails and think about when he will walk in the door.

I am listening to Bob Dylan (who knows a thing or two about dark blue nights) but can also sing about the bluest of mornings & cake & love.

Oh blue. Blue. You hold my heart.

You are both the happiest color and the saddest.

Had you a voice, blue, I would imagine it to sound like Otis and his arms and his dreams.

Had you a taste, it would have to be the plump huckleberries that grow wildly in the mountains of Washington that my Grandma bakes into the most delicious dessert these lucky lips have had.

Willie says blue eyes crying in the rain

Which makes me think of Seattle

And makes me miss them even more.

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