Baby Blue

1/17/11

Twisted, tangled in a mangled mess

Your dark blue while my skin's colorless in this lighting,

like lightening on pause,

see the absence of blood flow under my cheeks,

proof that my heartbeat stopped 400 miles from

empty.

There's dirt under your fingernails

from an attempt to dig me out from a mound

of suffocating negotiating with no one but myself,

though I was convinced it was Hades with me underground,

giving my soul a trial through ice,

a last appeal for life,

a final scream to sound my victory over the renowned ruler of eternal night.

That's the way you found me,

on your knees pleading with mud caked elbows by my soil tomb,

face tear stained as I broke through into a winter's eve

not expecting air to cause such panic,

my deer in a headlight eyes beaming, startled from hypnotic sleep.

Most surprising of all is you by my grave, cuz last night you were on the other side.

I watched them pull you from the riverbed,

your body painted navy, 23 hours worth of dead coloring from toe to head.

It's Juliet and Romeo flipped on end,

the climactic realization that I was safer on vacation playing fetch with Cerebus,

whistling Alanis Morissette,

my toes dangling in The River Styx

Now I'm two dimensions away

from graham crackers, chocolate, marshmallows on sticks

thats the trick of desire to instill arrogance.

Thought I knew what real was now I'm two floors below

with no one to hold but my baby blue.

Let's go get you washed up.

Let's go gaze at the moon.

I'm surprised it still shines here, maybe the sun's here too.

You laugh when I say this

(that's probably not a good sign).

Hand-in-hand we walk off stage as the curtain closes behind us,

but no applause to follow, no bow or reprise.

No tidy happy ending.

We had better luck last time.