Monday, February 1, 2016

Between Green and Violet

I feel blue. 

I feel all of it's shades. The turquoise and the aquamarine. 
The baby blues, and the dark teal. 
The azure and the lapis.
It feels like superficial serenity. 

The indigo seeps under my skin as I exhale the cerulean.
Sapphire grains under my fingernails. The color of aegean stains the bags under my eyes. 
There's residue of cobalt in my hair. I feel the heaviness of midnight's presence embedded in my being, and maya's presence embedded in my spirit.

It's all identical, but not quite. Not at all. 
Just like the sky, just like the arctic. 
It's similar but never the same.
There's a shade that separates navy to berry, 
stone to slate 
and denim to spruce.

My intentions feel like alice, but impact as prussian.
Even though I am as brute as oxford, I'd prefer to think I'm more of a periwinkle. 
My breath tastes as if  Ultramarine took her precious time to infiltrate my tongue, but smells as if Phthalo had his share on my palate instead.
Iris plays with the hairs on my arms, Celeste plays with my eyelashes.
Majorelle caresses my right cheek, Zaffre cleans the scrapes and wounds on my knees. 

Having my Bondi sing me to sleep, having my Brandeis to weep with me in my time of distraught and need. Having my Viridian tell me what I want to hear, having my Duke's ears and my Carolina's kisses. It all feels so good. It feels good having all of my blues in each of my senses.
Intertwined with the confusion and pleasure of knowing that I don't know, wherever they come from, I will allow them to consume me anyway, with no second thought.

Not questioning anything I say or do, just feeling and being. Experiencing, existing and seeing.

Palatinate lacks comprehension but makes up with her caress, with her touch, with her expression.
Even though my blues are but temporary serenity, they're still all mine to have. But colors change like the seasons, soon I'll be feeling red. 






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