I went to an estate sale.
A woman was selling a baby blue guitar.
“It’s yours — I’m moving to Aruba.”
And off I went with baby blue in hand.
As Blue as an Aries,
was the name of the band.
There was a boy in navy blue swim trunks playing in a South Jersey blue hole.
I blushed at the site of him — pink.
I put down my guitar and started to paint my hair shades of blue.
Streaky and soft,
like watercolor ink.
I found a man in orange,
offering me warm bearded kisses.
I didn’t want them but I was cold.
“This could be a good move for me,” I thought.
I went to the bathroom to wash the paint out,
but the whole room was blue.