cornflower blue
Illustrated by Ella Clayton.until these cornflower blue dreams
of mine dissipate
into the morning sun
where the petals nibble
on pleasure
as afternoon tea,
in these god-forsaken nights
it is important to grip onto bedside tables to evidence your
pulse
before your hair drips dopamine from shampoo-laden tears
sinking in thick, feminine perfume
as the lights fade two by two
to pulse is to have defeated those grey clouds hanging your head
in times tinned by turbulence
where yellowed pages strike blood on fingertips;
to look at tulips
imprinted in archived walls
is to breathe amidst these plastic bag days
{where thoughts are ladled like soup
and dished out over time
so that we don’t choke
or get bloated}