Last night, I died my hair blue. To match the blue
dresses I seem to wear or the earrings. There has been blue in my dreams, and,
naturally,
when I look over at the sky and out at the sea (a few chosen molecules happening to scatter that wavelength best).

_ Beneath _ my skin, it tosses  e n d l e s s,
as well as on ^top^ where I draw it in as
      l          w         r  petals
f          o           e        
and ((((oceans)))) for all eyes.

It’s a place, blue is. It’s in my head and waiting to plunge at my eyelids if they should ever close.
~ Blue ~ is:

  erase
  expose
  rest

  Pulse. His eyes. Pulse. Are gone; this is a new blue, a deeper blue, a me-er blue. My own. (!+!+!)