Blue
is a veil drawn to distract;
the colour of God -
an unforgettable sky -
and in shelter of this, a virgin;
sacred pulses of unease
and a church of unified pretence.
Pulled at the sleeve
of this blue acid
tear of streetlight,
is the spill of yellow -
an idiot full to the brim;
the vein that burst for heaven.
What marks that gulf is a woman turning,
an impression of blue on her skin;
applied Egyptian tracks to death.
She is perhaps a Mediterranean
to set aside your everyday;
a blue sun that devours,
spreading its arms open
to the billing noon.
In this, each blue given, blotted, swirled,
curled into the curious
twin fish of
life
is the sphere of an iris
from where you stand;
an uncertain portrait.
Laura Taylor
Thu 8th Nov 2012 12:22
Jampacked full of hugely evocative imagery - your writing is changing and flowing so fast these days, and this one seems to have more...what's the word...form?structure? It is less fluid/stream of cons whilst still holding onto the process that kicks it off. I know what I mean!!
Love it, fantastic piece. I read those first 3 verses in awe.