Call me cyan
If you can.
Or is it azure
That’s du jour?
Break me apart-
Tear into
The meat
Of my spirit
Draw on
Your pseudo-intellectual
Psycho-babble
To look behind, beyond
The joie
De-construct
The construct
And find out
If jouer
Was what it seemed
Or was rendered ungrammatical
By a slip of a tongue
In joue
What goes down
In history
Will it come up
The same?
Or transformed
By your metamorphosis
Will it take the shape
Of its container?
Liquid, the flow-
Er- it bloomed
Into a dimension
Unseen, unheard of
But was it?
Unheeded
We go on
Our lives
Passing, past
Parsed for all we know.
And the show
As it must
Must go
On and on
Into infinity
Colour compressed
Into one little dot
As it fades off into
The cerulean
That eye-
Or is it I-
Sees
In seas
Of turbulent navy
Battle for supremacy
The upper hand
Always holding
Off the final slap
A lapse into violent
Violet
But will you then say
I’m blue?
Yes. You may.
