Blue between the hours, a blue souls call the colour
Of God’s breath, the colour that stains a sky shivering
With untold prayers-
But here God’s grace seems bit misplaced,
Here in the dim light of the bar, where laughter mates
With shadows, where he watches her smile,
A kind of smile that belongs to shrines left
To the mercy of the wind-
Who are they, just a man and wife sitting here,
Two distant planets against the heat
Of heavy summer days, in a cauldron of blue and betrayal,
Silence waiting just outside the door-
Here they sit, a man and his wife, a blank dune shirked
By the storm, between clinks of the ice and smashed hearts,
And he speaks of distant shores and twilight vows
While she waves her fan, a tiny gadget against the heat,
And threads of life stitched in midnight blue,
To cool her limbs as she basks in electric dreams-
He sits across from her, his fingers tracing
Blue words left in the lurch-
Not just a night out, but love at full blast, the soul rejoices,
Poor thing, so so blind, she can’t realise betrayal isn’t loud,
It lurks behind an amber light bleeding across the wood
While the ceiling fan keeps shifting the heat
Of so many Tuesdays-
Yet, they sit here, their hands brushing across the blue
Of the night, as they taste a shared breath
Between two souls, and the fear God is just a silence
Drowning in a blue that tastes like salt, where angry prayers
Never find an answer, only a blank space
Where love never came-
Yet, they sit here, breathing bright colours in sighs,
And no, they don’t ask for much, just the simple gift
Of shared breaths-
You done now, soul? Drop it, get real, c’mon,
Look, he’s sitting two stools away from his shadow,
Watching blue streetlamps bleed into the night,
A world away from her smile, soon he’ll drink the last drops
Of malt, the last drops of light, then he’ll slip away
Alone into the night where the sky is a perfect cold blue,
That very blue that used to be God’s canvas,
Now just the perfect background for a Saturday night ad,
Well, maybe for teen minds looking for sense
In unwritten poems, of course all stained in blue.