cigarette, or blue is the color that I gave to you

Blue is the color that I give to you; -ivy- tongue and cheek superstitions

-and this is the position that I have to take with you-

define my value, as boys with beautiful eyes

might weigh a girl to estimate an incalculable sum

of worth. Fort Worth is on fire. Fred Meyer bracelets on sale

20 percent off, and I bought the store out.

You and me

we see

-the useable-

purple people eaters when we hold the cigarette to our lips and huff

puff; and fucking blow the house down.

You have gypsy lips and a wild streak the somebody painted on you with magic marker and red nail polish.

You've got one of those see' in eye dogs who'll bark on command

demand silence from the world- I know you could do it-

like you know I say no too much for my own good,

and we race across the linoleum like kids again.

Hair full of knots and every pot of water boiled over leaving stains on our peach hands.

Blue is the color that I give to you -ivy- I thought

I bought it, but in the end it was made for you.