The Need For Blue

Grapes arrived, seedless, she ate up my thanks.
Big Bro arrived, long time no see, they devoured the news
bouncing across the bed. Mikey, neck stiff from watching, laid
his painted smile back on the pillows.

Rapping heels echoed beneath the bed, a flick of sweat from
caged hormones. Little Sis tugged at her misbehaving hair.
A toddler's chuckle burst from a distant screen and the sniff of
rancid tobacco clung to the ancient tweed stumbling to the toilet.

Screen alert, Big Bro rushes off to leash up the biggest mutt they had and go searching for a park. Little Sis remembered an appointment with a deserted beach and a large pair of scissors.
She arrives, empties her carrier onto the bed, grapes escape,
she folds her carrier, swing door waves, exit.

The wait, the longing, the siren's rustle of blue, the pad of that
certain shoe, click, clicking of the opioid wheels.
The slight dislodging of my clothing, the slow release into my lusting arm.

Morphine Mary has handed me the bolt cutters. Cut. Step in.
Through the danger zone, rise up, embrace the light until....
Four hours of floating free in the Bliss of the Blue