Her Hair Was Blue

Published in the Pride edition of Stick Figure Poetry

* * * * *

Amidst writhing, sweating, pulsing, flesh,

blue ribbons fluttered

out of time to

White Wedding.

A mother's dream hovered,

pride before the fall

and crash!

Boy grinned - joker or fool?

Overworn garbs of spent flirtations

Soon forgotten

punchline

to a weather report.

Yet I never forgot that

her hair was blue.

. . . . .

She danced like me

but better;

she dressed like me

but better;

she flirted like me

but oh so much better.

Closer. Our lips touched

the lyrics

of Walk of Shame:

I'll do anything you ask of me.

. . . . .

In the crypt of lingering haze,

sweat, anticipation,

in dim-lit loud cellar,

a misty shroud settled over vanilla;

over black or white;

marmite;

'I only like boys.'

. . . . .

Then, like paraffin in puddles

in coalescence, colours emerged.

On that smoke-saturated dance-floor

who kissed me?

Who spread my colours like linking rainbows?

And reflected facets of

once blurred dreams - now

with diamond clarity.

Who?

It was no joker, no fool.

I only remember

her hair was blue.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Thank you for reading. Please share if you think others would appreciate my work. Other challenge entries for ‘After the Parade’ are:

Runner-up in the ‘From Across the Room’ challenge: