Blue

I’m finding my hue.

My shade? My tint?

My place.

The mix of my darks and lights,

reflected through prisms of life,

that define what it means to be me.

But even that feels fuzzy and strange.

How to define what is never the same?

You can give it a number and file it away,

But that’s just a system you’ve made to feel safe;

To give some semblance of order

Over something eternally ephemeral

And just out of reach.

Take blue for example.

What the hell is blue?

In some places it’s green and in others a scuffle.

In Russia the concept is hewn into two.

So in which half of Solomon’s compromise do I find myself?

Am I art? Am I harmony?

The ebb or the flow?

Or something else altogether?

Fuck it.

Into the blue I throw these

Names, labels, and epithets.

I throw them into the sky painted with

azuretealcyangreennothingness,

Until it absorbs all and reflects back

The tumbling oceans of my heart

With perfect clarity.

A meaning for me.

Intangible yet made to measure.

Hidden in the cracks of my

Shifting pulsing spirit:

My absolute h(bl)ue.