I am your blue
the one you wear when you walk
to work on cold, Tuesday mornings.
I hang on your skin in the rain
and you don’t realize how the color
makes your eyes deeper, brighter.
I am the sweet, musky aroma
that clings to you in the smoky bar,
your last memory as you drift into sleep.
Slip me over your head, slide your hands
through my dark spaces, feel my warmth
like candlelight brushing your skin.