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by Dave Nordling

What do I think when I hear blue?
What do I feel when I think of blue?

Blue was the sky when I walked that day
the sun on my shoulders
wind stirring the dust on the street
Blue was her dress when she sat beside me
Her long hair on bare shoulders.
To her eyes, I fell victim
with perfect words, unstoppable attraction
Blue, I know they were blue.

Blue was the fast car along the ocean going west
seas rising and falling
Blue was all around me.
Her long hair flowing in the wind from lowered window
as I drove faster, her head tips back
her eyes all over me and the sun and the blue sky above.

Blue was the afternoon.
We walked the promenade
learning, watching each other
admiring the unspoken
longing for hidden pleasures.
Blue were her sandals cradling her small soft feet
over smooth mosaic tiles.

The sun in the sky rolled away
behind a billowing wall of clouds
in the crystalline heights
blue rains from purple storm stirrring above
The day was indeed changing.
Beneath the boughs of an orange tree
with the blossoms of spring at her feet.
Her slim feet, her legs bare.
Crossed legs, short skirt
The small flowers behind her, blue.

A stare again into her heart
through those eyes so blue.
Blue were the swaying fields surrounding me.
My hand on her leg.
Her eyes in mine.

Clear cold drops from heaven's weeping
Rain into the humbled crowd
in the open market
Others ran, we stayed, stayed to kiss softly
as the rain rolled and washed over us.
Blue, the inescapable blue, soaking into us both.

Her shoulders wet, her mouth so warm.
I held her hand, her soft head with her hair.
Fall through my fingers, the ribbon of blue tumbled
from the cascade of her hair falling, falling
We stop to look again at ourselves, at our wet bodies.
My denim jacket warm from my body.
I put over her and draw her small feminine form
up to my humble fortress.
Near me, so near me, the blue.

To the safety of the firelit cafe.
A silent meal with the sunlight fading
strung together by our mutual gazing.
On blue cobalt plates, the blue glass cups
before the fire
and the anonymous diners around us
I wanted her so exquisitely
The blue fire I did see in her
but her smile begged wait, not yet.
Blue was the wet concrete path
painted by the storm.

The streetlights spraying the blue
over all the passed in this night growing dim
Fewer were the travelers on this street.
Here was the anticipation.
here was the river rising in my heart from the rains
over blue lush hills and aqua verdant valleys.
I watched her walk before me.

Her short blue dress swaying with the wind.
Her form silhouetting in the haunting light
Her small fingers teasing my flesh between shirt buttons
my mortal passion turning my eyes to blue.
Everything running blue.
She smiles at me with suggestion
when she throws her head back to beckon me
beckon me onward to the street corner hotel.
Deeper into the blue.
I am falling faster into the blue.
I stop her teasing with a firm hold on the wrist.
Shift to her delicate shoulders,
unafraid, feigned surprise, her smile conveyed
what my blinding blue could not speak.
We would adjourn from the wet streets
to a lonely dry room, dark in the blue
smooth stone walls lit by candles
lit by her aura, lit by my swelling heat.

From behind my eyes shining bright
I see everything in the dark
grasping all of her
spread over the fields of satin
in the blue, dark blue surrounding us.
Under her garments of blue
under her dress, I join our bodies
in a sudden, willing, needful gust.

Twitching delight rolled through her
as her demons danced with mine
casting shadows in the midnight blue
the moonlight blue that spies on our deeds
from behind the thin blue veils
shrouding the windows from the night air.

I saw only her eyes in blue
my body twisting over the clean cotton sheets
her fingers lightly dragging over me.
Stirring me, I swim in the blue.
I drink of the blue.
I dream in blue.

Dripping and wet.
Panting and hungry.
Under the blue, captured by the blue.
She fed me with blue.
I fell away from what was real.
I awoke into blue.
A strangeness so blue.
A blue of a darker hue.

She was gone, empty
I was naked, alone, shaking.
I abandoned myself to only accepting blue.
Blue was here in a spectrum new.
A child again, lost and afraid.

Denied and crying, my heart tearing
spilling droplets of blue
the bottomless blue.
the blue of pity, the blue of being
a sole souvenir of a powerful epic
a dream smashed open into the waking world.

Can I say that I know blue?
Can I forget the feel of blue?
Can I bear to see anything or anyone of blue?
Will I cry incessantly for the blue?
Will I let rage tear me apart and leave my ragged pieces floating in blue?
Not when I once felt alive, anew.

I cannot be the same
with my soul painted with her

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