le grand bleu
never have the waves been blue
I have seen them grey, it is true,
and so terribly white, a scratch in the air
a fluorescent desert, at times,
under dark clouds huddled
over a cliff of the greenest lemon trees
a glass streak, at the bottom
of a night with no stars
and, again,
invisible, beside me, when I walked
lost in blackened thoughts
only the water breaking beside me
could blacken out
*
without the waves no life is given
unless stripped of all colour,
of all blue
