Shades of Blue



From Fiction Brigade, a great zine.

 

 



Shades of Blue

If you wish to turn something into blue,


think shady groves, the apple blossoms your grandmother spoke about with her eyes closed, calling you by a boy’s name. You never got to say Good-Bye. The door was already closed.

If you wish to turn something into sky blue, save up your old X-rays, showing the great transpositions of your organs, how your heart barely hung by wisteria vines, how the memory of cardiac shadows caused your three marriages to white out.

If you wish to turn something into deep blue, forget the swell and volume of your closets, rooms you’ve walked through, but never lived in, the pretty boys you slept with and then let go of in the morning, as if each other’s too expensive bird.

If you wish to turn something into black and blue, think of all the men who sleep alone, dreaming of the skeletons of their nannies, executed for seventeen variations of murder and sixteen aberrations of love.