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.
