Blue tinted glasses
That you’ll never see
Properly through
Unless it’s a copper correction
Of the thinning stomach
Or the grey eyes
Grown salty and green
As the fruit salad
Frustration sloshed down
In twenty-five bites
Of thirty-two chews
And a thousand swallows
Singing over the exclamations
Your mother exerted
Over ten-thirty yoga exercises
Illuminated at three in the morning
On a half baked mind
And a restless spirit
Pining over insights
Realized over twice more
In the company
Of blue tinted glasses.