Tonight's Poet Corner: Blue

Blue
by Belinda Roddie

I don't want to make love to you
with that stupid Halsey song
playing anymore: Nothing about me
is gray, and nothing about you
is blue.

You are melted pastels that give
me nausea at the wrong times of day.
I am reds and oranges as if a sunset
just stabbed itself in the eyes
with two sewing needles.

I don't have little brothers: just the one
with white powder under his nose
and fireworks stowed in his spine.
You are not a vision, but a premonition
of end times that I'm trying to avoid.

The only calming color I can find
in this Jackson Pollock orgy
is the sky outside - and even then,
there's too much white in the clouds.
Too much blank canvas.
Too many goddamn unknowns.