I knew seven shades of blue
when I met you.
No other colors were coming through.
You introduced me to my heart
and claimed you were my counterpart.
Seasons changed and so did I.
Where you lived behind my eyes
poems seemed to multiply.
A strange, smeared palette, a waxing world,
and the pillowed comfort of the perfect girl.
When I could no longer touch the ground
or follow warm small thoughts around,
you cried to me with silver sounds.
But busy with a life on stage
I lived inside my velvet cage.
Then stumbled to my knees and
wailed, lost all will, all reason.
Love can be such a cruel season.
Hard to hold like water in the hand,
a xeriscape of affection I never planned.