If I can hold on,
Then I can drift away,
Over and away from the beige and the ache,
I can drift into hues of pale pink and cerrulean,
Every shade blended to my skin,
As the sky envelops me,
Wraps me up tight.

Bring on the greys,
The whisps of cloud that blur across the atmosphere,
And rhythmic rain on Sundays and dark days,

But give me
A  violet rose dome while I drift,
The sun scattering clear thick shadows which flash over my eyes while I spin,
Yes give me blues,
While I drift.