Blue Period

I think I'm in my blue period. Where I want to be consumed whole by the colour. I wonder what I will see. Will I see the belly of the whale that swallowed Pinocchio? Or will I see Bluebeard's cutlass, bearing down until the blue fades to red and then, to black? Maybe I'll see Cinderella disappear into the clouds as the slipper crashes onto earth, glass shattering.

Can I swim in the sky and fly through the sea? 

Will you take my hand and lead me into the beast I so adore? I'll be surrounded by moon jellyfish, and perhaps I will hold out my hand, and one will flutter softly down. And then I'll see the surface of the moon surrounding me as I run out of breath and sink, down, down, down below. And maybe it'll wash over me like the waves over the shore. But more water than froth. And it'll drag me gently back under where I can close my eyes and see the pretty, bright pulses of light.

Will I then erupt into the air, borne by the breeze to lands far off? Then the North Wind will trail along the side of the East Wind. And their laughter will answer my silly little questions in the rustle of leaves on branches. Storm clouds will drench me and thunder will shout insults into my ears and lightning will mock me, but I won't care. And we'll stop at a spot where the grass will flutter like it's envious of me. South Wind will squabble with North Wind, and West Wind will sneak me away again through the clouds, higher and higher until I cross the stratosphere.

If my eyes get burned by the sun, I'll still see a glimpse of blue everywhere I float. I'll ride on a comet and soar into the night sky. Supernovas will be my fuel, pushing me with their bursting energy. And in the center of the nebula, I'll see the stones of creation, and they'll be like the bluest of blue I've seen. Asteroids will split for me, Saturn won't stop me, and I'll go. I'll go until I hop off my little comet, watching it whizz past into the navy oblivion, and get dropped right into Neptune. The ice will brand me, claim the end of my life as it freezes me whole. So I'll lie down on a bed of crystal rocks and cross my hands over my chest.

When I open my eyes, I'll be back on the field of my dreams, staring up and up and up. Until I see it staring back at me. That exquisite blue I could never forget, even after death. My blue world.

Because... God, whatever it is, whether it's an apple or a rabbit, let it be blue.