(Complete poem in caption)
©bankachaand
Blue.
The color of the dying light.
The color of starlit nights.
Of deep oceans. Of clear skies.
And of melancholic sighs.
Of insomnia. Of blueberry delights.
Almost all your clothes,
your make up, your hair highlights.
Your favorite color.
The shade of your smiles.
You have always loved blues.
And lived through many.
"Sailed through", you correct me,
with a wink in your eyes.
Of late, it's also the color of
your translucent skin, especially
under your eyes.
You have always wished
your eyes were blue.
Now I find their red never gone.
Greys more noticeable,
under the shimmers you put on.
Your veins show more of 'em,
while your smiles quiver too.
Your face has patches of them,
you say you don't know why.
You still ride in your indigo bike,
hairs dancing with the wind,
jazz in your ears, defiance in your eyes.
I hope you still dream of running
under blue skies and a rainbow,
radiating a thousand hues.
Not waiting for a hand to hold,
but just happy to have survived
another tide of blues.
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