we talk about everything in a certain way
an alive way that conjures poems n memories n apparently causes spontaneous flames to Be casted into perfect Hearts on the piece of indigo dyed fabric thats always folded up under the abalone between us
n Fire Be keeping this medicinal color too one that has woven Loved ones together n torn them apart across thresholds of Time n space Soul textiles tied back into alchemical fluid hues
guarding (n guided by) the mysteries held through each shade of blue
the Truth eclipses
at the natural rhythm
in gratitude,