The sea is blue.
No, it's red.
Red and blue.
Blue and red.
The blue is a mere reflection of the sky.
Deep and thoughtful,
Tainted with white jewels that glint
In a cruel sun.
It's all I can see below me,
And below me, it's dark.
Dark thoughts and dark hands -
I think they're pulling me down.
Down into the blue.
Blue and red.
Red and blue.
Blood is red.
Like roses - or perhaps poppies.
It's snaking through the water
In rich crimson ribbons.
It's dripping out of my body
(Though I don't know where from).
There is no pain, though:
The heartless feel no pain.
It's dripping out of my body,
Like red tears.
But tears aren't red -
They're not blue either.
Red and blue.
Blue and red.
And through
The red and the blue,
Is a burst of bright
White
Light.
Sudden glows that flow
Through
The red and the blue.
Swooping wings sweep down
And engulf me in a flurry
Of bubbling foam.
My eyes are burning and I can't see
Anything except white.
White and red.
Red and blue.
Blue and white.
And finally -
Black.
YOU ARE READING
the mind's recesses
Poetrywords that fell out of inky fingers, and stained the paper that lay on wooden tables.
