Black And Blue

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Oh so pure was innocent white 

Those pages bared to the gaze of light

My sigh was blue and your heart was black

Every empty moment felt your lack

 

So fair of skin, the notebook page

A blushing star on a spot-lit stage

Though ink is black and lines are blue

Bearing the marks of loving you

 

A poet, I think, should have a bit more class

Then to torture trees with a haunted past

Yet when the sky is blue, still the words are black

And if I’m clumsy Jill that makes you Jack

 

So ’round and ’round in a spiral prose

A scorpion’s sting and a bloody rose

When night is black and dreams are blue

My traitorous pen will pay her dues

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