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"Soak Cobalt *bloat*dye*croak*" (lyrics by Violet Payne)
Blue chroma saturated my true colors like a sponge.
So this is what it feels like; this sieve is where I live, without living.
I breathe not by choice. Misfortunes are givens.
They take the peach away and are replaced -
The crazed masterpiece made by the grubby
play-caked frustrated palms of a puzzle-frazzled 4-year old
who mistakes the deep lake center of the scene for the sky blue edge pieces
and leaves me no borders but a hazy equator.
Bye, bi-polar bear south of the border.
I can be both and more: deep lock monster - modern day eyesore.
Fortunately for you, I no longer resurface (in this form);
these dark adapted eyes see nothing
but my own colossal extremities
(sea asylum - salt injunction - soylent plum - tap water friction).
I mention food often, but hunger for nothing,
craving from nature no more than her hues.
I've starved the fruit from my wooden frame, then set it aflame.
I can be both and more: deep lock monster - modern day eyesore.
And I'm satisfied - a fine canvas - baptized - bliss.
I've quickened the harvest with sticky tar fingers,
salve-stained sanguine mortar scarlet petal wound.
My dark red rum: a violet payne - emerging magenta.
I can be the beautiful spectrum of blue -
violet (magnificent) *period*
I can be both and more: deep lock monster - modern day eyesore.
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