Blue 2

He always wore blue

In a perfect worn-out hue

Touching heaven and Heaven

In words and in view of himself

Walking as high as he could

To fall down from heaven to the gutter of earth

Where his voice resonates making me puke

With all the nauseous words he said without a clue

How would it affect me –

As pure as the driven snow

Melted with the mahogany mud

Transforming my innocent nature into a scrap

Washed away by the turquoise blue sea

Like some aquamarine lichen dangerously

Germinating on my skin

Often resembling orange crust coating the rock

Uncomfortably itching, burning, and irritating

With its view and a memory

Of the chameleon man

Colourfully contradicting himself

In every step, word, and gesture

Parallel with the jade green scorpion trying to squirt a venom in me

Fouling every sense of sweetness

From the garish hard candy

*

6 May 2021

***

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