Mixolydian Blue

 
All those colors falling
On the wrist of your thought
Well, you know that I’m not
Void colliding with that fading blue
 
A cement rose I planted
On your memory
On your well known avoidance
Of the fact that we’re not even stains of blue
 
In your eyes and your hands
I see samples of
Disaster ruling realms of
White traps fading into blue
 
Clapping words agree with
Your stretched scars that feel no
Reason to believe in worlds
That do not even seem blue, they don’t seem blue