Blue is the color of my eyes - more like the summer sky than the ocean, although Carribean blue would not be off mark. I recall the day you said, "Those eyes look right through me," just before you kissed me deeply.
I stare at the cerulean sky, recalling that kiss. Can anyone truly know love? It is so mysterious.
We can...color with pretty words what we think describes those butterflies. I prefer hummingbird wings - the pace is quicker, more intense.
Windsor blue would describe the depth of chaos into which we plunge in love, so reckless and disregarding of all around us saved the beloved. The world becomes the One. For me the One is a he. For others...a she. Doesn't matter, really...it's the kiss that counts, that bargains for our soul, that fronts the chinks for it.
Kings have tumbled, empires collapsed over love. Yet still we seek to describe how it feels. Oceanic and then some. universal...and then some. It is the flesh that brings one back to earth, binding one to the memory of the moments in between love when we search...
High and low in roundabout ways....until it appears again and we once again become veiled by the aqua mist that offers succor and strength and binds us to the flesh of another. Tumbling like blue bottle glass on the shore...over and over...until we are polished smooth and no longer quite so...sharp and biting.
note - photo is abstract of soldiers in parking lot taken same day as sunset in..."Yellow."
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