taste of blue

thinking tonight of the taste of blue.
veins savored gently through the skin,
eyes perfect for just that tart hint,
light sipped from along the edge of fine hair.

what was I imagining just now? a slinky
roan flank of night covering the house,
an old jazz horn lifting the air around me
and flirting with my fingers as I pass them

over my rumpled clothes, new oils and old pleasures
heavy in my nose, and all i care to do
is taste your blue on my lips, take in the crumbs of the week,
sing out about the way they make my mouth sing.