Riding Blue

a poem by Steph

You’re blue Turquoise
Light blue Heavenly
Or deep overseas
To me it does not matter.

And that your eyes lapis lazu-
li That confuses me in seawater

And that not be aviation

And that you do not pick corn-
flower And because you ride the

blue With me or without me
Strong as steel
Kingly as Persia
Fast and electric
In the night
Salty and marine.
I could call Klein or Dodger
My flower of maize
But when I call you
You are as accurate as sapphire
Concentrated and perfect as a

robin’s egg Sometimes pale tur-
quoise

Treated in light blue
Or absolute dark.
Mystical peraltro
To attention like a cadet
To the command stellar
I called the Cerulean plots
Something of old that smacks of
Prussia
And combined in cyan
I am creating
Perfumed thoughts blue lavender
And wrapped me in sugar powder
And breathe powder blue and
periwinkle While still thought
that first opens as a peacock
.

Gift me yet water and chalced-
ony

I am still porcelain blue

I am still yet there transgres-
sion of the denim That I fold

under the shots of the danube
Or other oxide blue
And finally
These hands
Find a equilibrium of teal
And the birth of a unpublished
blue of Delft Indifferent to
the time
Dark blue
Distant
Deep
Clear blue
Sound of flute cornflower blue
or of organ petroleum With me
Vasilij.
Loosely based on the theories

of Kandinsky about color.

Happy #Throwbackthursday from Genre issue No. 1

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