At first, I knew blue just as another word they had been alternating for grief. Pretty much nothing but misery, yet I see them in you.
Your eyes are pots and the color blue overflows from them. I see blue in you and I see you in blue. Subtle hues of ultramarine leak from that warm yellow heart of yours, flowing and running until they form a pond which later greets the ocean. As vast as the sea, your sincerity.
I see blue in those sturdy shoulders of yours. Reenacting the sky as my pillar, holding everything straight, making things steady. Your eyelids are clouds and your face is a clear blue sky — it glooms sometimes, but it stays blue behind. You shine by day and hide by night, but I know you are still there, despite, despite, despite.
Three seconds of you smiling and azure blue fills me in. One, two, three — I was always red and you poured blue all over me, making us lilac, an inevitable one at that. You bring me blue and you bring me tranquility.
You are another personification of blue, for those skinny fingers of yours contain so much of the waves I once longed for. Just as those surfs, my love for you comes in waves — one got washed and another one hundred were created. It’s coming over and over again, and I would long for you as if I was longing for another wave to come.
At first, I knew blue just as another word they had been alternating for grief. Pretty much nothing but misery, yet I see them in you. Now I know them as you as I could hear the sound of the sea while you talk and I could see the sky above you when you walk. Blue is no longer sad and gloom — for you are a ball of blue, and a happy one at that.
I never thought the color indigo would make me this happy nor the color sapphire would make me feel this content. Nor I ever thought I would find joy in blue — and I found love in you, in my blue.
