Blue into Blue

I take my blue into the blue and I am one with it, hue upon you, the tattered rope and muslin, blowing wild through ensconcing light, into the post-clock era of fabrics and haze, beyond neat lines to the blur.

Tethered only to the stories told, to ourselves, in the terrible silence of birch groves, the flickering pronunciations warming your conjures; you have always tapped a rhythm, birthing meter, into the white glowing night.

I take my blue into the blue so as to pass right through it, unseen by eyes and waving, sail-cloth hanging limp from the shrouds, a swatch torn from the sky, and offered to the wind, like the heart of a stag brought beating to the wood-god.

o O o

 

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