Blue Skin In The Afternoon
The stars were shining brighter than the sun on the day my skin turned blue.
Entire galaxies were intertwining with the weeping willow's vines.
Dusk went straight to dawn with no glimpse of night.
Roots grew out of the ground into the air while the grass stayed planted within the soil.
Two in the afternoon became two in the morning.
Windows became mirrors but I did not recognize myself.
The fires embers replaced the stars.
And the color of the sky became the color of my skin.
They say that if you hold a dandelion against your skin it will leave a delicate print that is not easy to get rid of.
I guess that your hands work the same way.
Leaving my skin blue from the number of times I compared your eyelashes to the wispy clouds.
Blue from all the times you touched my legs while they were in jeans.
Blue from the instance that we discovered a robin's eggs while they were safely in their nest.
Blue from the night you told me neptune was your favorite planet.
Blue from how hard it is to breath without you around.
Or simply just blue from how the light was hitting it.
A lot of unresolved issues seem to rise to the surface when your skin matches the ocean.
But it is so easy to hide such simple problems in such a vast expanse of mind covered in skin.