Because Memories

Because memories aren’t memories unless they spin
in a haze of blue, firmament and ocean overturned

into an infinite mist, congealing into an occasional
cloud. I’m beginning to separate the shades, the unsaid,

cobalt at the edge, the untouched, pale as covered skin,
the unawakened, dark and restless in the middle, waiting

for words, for warmth, for touch; the unforgotten,
whirling in random patterns, blurry, wet, between the

truth and the want, the azure of unloved seas, of unkissed
sky, the virgin cerulean of hesitant dreams, daring to

reveal, only to disappear. You didn’t teach me the colour
of a fallen promise, of an abandoned love, of a shadow in

the unsunk depths, of the hue of the past when it floats
sapphire, an imploding moon inside unopened eyes.

 

First published on Visual Verse (Vol 05, Chapter 03)
Check the link to see their picture prompt
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36 thoughts on “Because Memories

  1. I agree with Sarah. Your poem is incredibly beautiful, and made me imagine shades of blue far more exquisite and richly varied than in the photo.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. This wants a painting, this is a painting with the hues if memory some more vivid some used into a welcome or unwelcome fade. Is this ekphrastic? It could play art/poem/art/poem like a message gone around a room in the game of telephone, changing so that the message kaleidescopes memory into the present.

    Like

  3. kaykuala

    of a fallen promise, of an abandoned love, of a shadow in
    the unsunk depths, of the hue of the past

    Love goes through a varied maze of unexpected developments. That is true Thot! In the course of it tears readily flow. Great writing and choice of vocab is fantastic!

    Hank

    Like

  4. This is so lovely. It teases the imagination into considering what is ‘a memory’. My laptop didn’t show a picture but I’m certain this poem is a picture itself, beautiful.

    Like

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