an ode to a colour I’m so smitten with;
allow me to paint your wind-ruffled cheeks with blue, beneath the dusty layer of cacophonies you absorb.
the pastels scraped from in between your bitten nails, believe me, sing the ballads of mixed daydreams of the tones of Indigo and violet and turquoise.
let me tell you about my favourite colour, which is a spoon-ful of acceptance, with a sliver of smoothness of breaking bonds,
as it echoes the secrets of the sky that breathes the ache of flight into your heart.
it, my blue, is hidden like the colossal subtlety of the edges of a gemstone, bejeweled with the light of luminous half painted fantasies.
the intonation of my colour, raises its voice like the tides that bring me the news of the shore, or sits scared down at the bed of the specter of the mighty ocean, stretching an arm or two in leisure.
blue, you see, is the the flavour of the flame that warms my mother’s love as she cooks for me.
Blue is the mischief that manages to make a home in the irises of my friends, it is the favourite layer of love and laughter that my heroes call home.
all too well,
my blue isn’t just the music of brooks meandering round the cleft chins of earth,
it is the liquid grace of the peacock as it dances in the splattered canvas of the color, possessed by the little futile aims of the raindrops who embrace its lithe being.
ah, my blue isn’t only the hearth of electricity that crackles, in the eyes of the thunder God, it’s the stream of moonlight colored by the clumsy hands of God along the edges of the night.
it’s the colour of belonging that flushes inside my organizing shelves of thickness, ah so often.