Blue Moods

Blue moods, intertwine in the skyline— a chipped sapphire's scent trailing the air; sun's own dusk— setting in rising then rain, a cerulean dye for my heart's pallor; rolling down pristine window panes; shadows, a threnodial voice— inside blue moods, time has no stance— only scars paling in the glass; the ticking arrow makes azure whirls of dust— like frames of coma or cold, around my heart— my scream at the equinox— and its bottled and bleak memory.