Blue Door
Symbolic poetry
Have you seen it,
the geometry of a shadow—
how it explodes on the ground in cubic feet?
A radius of
distilled darkness—
her face is
there, repeating,
collapsing,
clinging,
but always
repeating.
Only when the sun fails, quiet finds a voice.
A blue door stretches toward
me, and I see her.
My heart,
a dying
sun,
rushing to meet it,
to meet her,
letting the blue swallow
me,
release
me.
Her eyes,
cast in cobalt—
smiling,
waiting.
In the hush of dusk—the door becomes a mouth,
the mouth becomes
a door.
Memories tangle in
geometry,
the light—
seen through
angles,
the eye
caught in
a lattice of
noticing.
Indigo stillness settles—
like the crease of her leather
gloves,
her pale, mute
lips slightly
parted.
Repeating,
crushing,
erasing,
swallowing me
into her.
Oh this was good i was caught up from the opening line