Member Poem

She wets the wings of flies and glistens on the undersides of ducks,
breathes cool bloom on berries that stain my lips with inky juice,
plays in folds of dyed linen over my summer-hued skin;

ties ocean to sky with azure ropes,
mixes sea-tones, calms me with soft atmospheres,
flirts with turquoise, that mysterious mistress of green;

covers gently, as with a cape, lovers who mirror gestures
perched on café chairs, thighs in faded jeans, under billowing awnings,
their bold letters fluttering in deep ultramarine;

or aches in a new bruise, healing; her artwork turns
like a wintering leaf: ocelli dabbed onto damp flesh,
her rough signature of pain.

Since birth (that blue-tinged entry into twilight) we have been friends.
Lapis lazuli is my winter stone. Where to next? Two magpie tails,
shining blue-black bunches – my pastel-coloured ribbons

are worked loose. Sinews and veins
move deftly as old hands tie new bows. Like paint tubes
the years will empty; the child will become someone

else. When I am in my prime, making choices,
we will still collaborate. I will act on your discreet suggestions:
Cerise wears you, but you glow in cerulean.

(The 2011 Bluethumbnail Competition, Runner-up)