A letter removed from blue.

In this softness of your name alone,

a grace polishes itself into the tongue,

leaving the flesh worn and iridescent.

Winds tease the clouds lower over your eyes and your lips part as under a surgery knife illuminating the beauty in separation.

You lie in the extinct of a language that has not been spoken again, the sallow shadows of an unanswered prayer, humble in the dream of your beauty.

When bodies are molecules too distant to form, volumes too deep to experience, the heart cores itself as an enervated victim to space.

The thoughtless heart of youthful violence singing through your limbs.

The essence of an answer forgotten or a song misplaced,

cavitating the vessels with just words alone.

Sanguine in the belief of loves cyclical virtue,

we wait along the sated shores of conversation for it to tickle at our feet and hear its laughter in that spray as it breaks.

And all the beaches seem gentler because they are colored meanings.

Meaning prayer is the artists virtue

and God is most pious

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