Depth of Feeling

During a degree of ninety (in the time of eighty) small in coral and pink: My friend, I saw ribbons of prismatic stillness curled in blue, and I intended to joyfully wake a Saturday (I think) with you. Yet surfacing a new hue you dove (a newer friend in line) According to your mother’s whine: It’s fine if I do stay a while in the glassy blue alone. No thank you, I’m fine. The sunlight kissed my tears amidst chemical crystalline truth: Such hurtful stings are shadows in the shallow pool of youth.