Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Blue Baby

She smirks as the hours slip by,
needing me to be needy,
kneading my feelings into nothing,
because this is a game to her.
I am a game,
though she’s too old for toys,
my young at loins lover,
paints me blue with her parting.

Sweet Daddy,
do you have to roam so long?
I’m dreaming the whole day through,
your ring on my finger and your love on my mind,
but the body of your baby, so bare against the soft sheets,
is cerulean.

One thought on “Blue Baby

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