Your Royal Blue
(7.4.03)

What ails you, O stony one?
My, you're looking blue tonight.

Rarely does one ever get the chance
to embarrass oneself so completely.
I've stepped carefully behind you, so as to
avoid your chilling gaze.
One step in the wrong direction and
I am frozen in your eyes.
Eyes of a coldness so paralyzing,
not even my friends can drag me away.
And yet, you never turned around.
Not once.
I memorized the outline of your back against
the cobalt sky, lit up with flashes of colored sparks -
red, green, yellow, purple -
or was that blue?
Blue lips, though it's July;
icy fingers, determined to break my own;
blue words, spilling onto paper like frigid waterfalls.

My red hair would really clash with you.