Within the Blue

in your arms, i feel as though the sun will never set, i am the blushed morning rise that doesn't rise alone, i feel you rising as well. sometimes when i am alone i question cloudless days and wonder what if... what if things were colored gray? if my hands were only able to trace shadows rather than the very edges of your soul, would loneliness trigger me in deeper thoughts than you or i could ever imagine? i can't picture my hands empty aging with time, holding nothing but a dream; like wrinkled poems falling to the floor as if never to be read by anyone. my mind alone could trigger my soul, pull my fingers back from reality, press against more than facts then stop my heart from beating as i roll the barrel and draw my last breath of poetry, alone... if things were colored gray