our last days of winter
were spent inhaling poetry,
high on smoke and spice
and a whole lot of s o u l,
our lungs like hidden chambers
filled with a breath of ashes,
our hearts like hollow canyons
filled with the echoes of prose
we took a drag of every line
and purged the cold
but now, in the aftermath
of our inevitable crash,
the warm air reaches our bones
we walk away slowly,
caught in the crossfade,
under the influence of the new season’s change
we meld into the mellow shades of blue,
the savoy sorrow in the sunlight
becoming a magical moonsea darkness
that sweeps us away
on its cerulean waves
the muses peddle forgotten melodies,
and we fill our veins with their precious ink
we trip on cobalt clouds
and dance under a cornflower moon
as if the stars were flowers
shooting across cyan skies,
dripping daffodils on the lips of dreamers
we let them fall on our tongue
to bloom a lilac love in indigo
and we slip beneath their spell,
intoxicated by violet verses,
waiting on the exhale
-ashley jane