I would sit at a blue bar in a blue century
an empty glass and a reflection
a tired tilt of the head - blue
for blue’s sake, I would sit there
in Spanish Celsius, stuck in a shadow
while the woman at my side lets the naked narrow of her back unfold mysteries
leans like an invertebrate into the blue, into this lonely, stoic blue we’d sink
until all we are is a goddamn hue from 1902, dissolved of the duties
of this grayscale reality
Tristan is a writer from Brooklyn, NY. His poetry is driven by the power of place and the human need to explore. He is also inspired by full moons, new languages, human kindness and tacos. You can find his work in a variety of online literary magazines.
The Ekphrastic Review
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