On the Other Side of the Blue

One inevitability in life

Is that those obligated to know you

Yet have no desire for intimacy

Will ask, "What is your favorite color?"

So that they can utilize the pretense

That knowing something about you means

That they really somehow know who you are -

And this is the way of a thousand first

Dates I've endured and insufferable

"Ice-breakers" at work I have survived,

And each time I say that my favorite

Color is blue, and perhaps they will ask

"What kind of blue," and I will explain

That I'm particularly partial to

The royal shades of blue, called by those who

Know color things like "cerulean," or

"Azure," or "lapis lazuli," the kind

Of blue of the ballpoint pens at the bank

And of stella mara chapel ceilings,

And yes, it seems, blue is everybody's

Favorite color, so they think that means there's

Nothing special about my aesthetic,

And we can move on and get to business

Whether that be the business of a staff

Meeting, the decision of a second date,

Or the peace and quiet of an agreed

Upon armistice of cordial silence,

But ask as they will, they don't want to know

That, in the how and why of blue, I am

Someone whose earliest memories are

Painted royal blue by circumstance and

Family, such as when my mother held

Me in her lap, wearing a blue velvet

Maternity sweater as she explained

That there is a baby inside her womb -

He's going to be my baby brother -

And I imagine a child playing with toys

On the other side of the blue she wore,

And I spend the next few months waiting

For my very own baby brother to

Arrive, the same way, I suppose, that a

Sparrow with a song in its heart endures

The pregnancy of nighttime until dawn

Births the sun and its song, but then when he

Was born a month and a half too early,

I remember visiting him in the hospital

As he lay bathed in blue incubator

Lights, and though I would find out years later

That he almost didn't make it because

Of his fragile lungs that couldn't cry, and

The blue light bulbs hid his jaundiced skin, I

Met my brother on the other side of

A different blue and greeted it as a

Bringer of gifts and great joy to my life,

Though I will admit, I never could have

Known how that blue would feel when my youngest

Brother could no longer bear the burden

Of existence, and all his family and

Friends had gathered with about a hundred

Black balloons attached to written memories

And stillborn hopes, and my body was still

Sore from the convulsions of sobbing and

My soul still bled from the amputation,

And we let them go into the heavens

And my head turned skyward, I watched as the

Firmament swallowed whole and entire

Those memories as they passed from here to

Wherever my brother now lives, on the

Other side of the wild blue yonder, and

Yeah, I guess this is too much to expect

Anyone to divine from my color

Preference, far too morose to bring to an

Awkward first date or training seminar,

Or any other occasion in which

The question of one's favorite color can

Suffice to provide an ersatz knowledge

Of who and what I am...but of the why

Of blue? I keep that bundled close to my

Chest, and maybe there are those who are brave

And worthy enough to know, that blue is

My favorite color because the people

I love the most have always been on the

Other side of it.