Day 1, NaPoWriMo: Blue

What your eyes used to be, before worry bled them out. How the sky behaved each time you faced another winter day, almost bleached of color. Where you located your body's music, in the ancient guitars of old southern gentlemen who sang to fill the heart with falling wings. Who hid in the spectrum I selected from the rainbow, thinking he could lose me in the battered brains of clouds. When it followed me around town, volunteering my personal information to strangers, and I had to shut it up, no matter how much it suited my mood. Why the ocean is so confident, why it blasts through obstacles in green, red, and brown. Why it understands every soft piece of me that folds when her voice arrives, drops into her arms.