Blue

New Year's Day and this is how you feel.
Part smoke, part silk, liquid and solid.
A hint of underwear and tissue?

At odds with the dull euphonium
blurting raspberries through ticker tape
behind your left eyeball. Or your right?

You can't tell one side from the other
until you know which way up you are.
Perhaps you'll just lie here and remain

pinned into the blue sheets, the blue bed
the blue absence of someone you hurt?
Love, fragile as spider film in rain.

The midday world outside is wild and blue.
The band retreats. You open one eye. Move.