Icy Blue

There's something amiss here,

the myriad half-specks of blue iridescence whisper in my ear-

because when I turn to look at you speak I always lose balance

Your voice and eyes tell of something diffe-rent,

As linear time gives a final bow for its comedic performance,

and my second lung lurches to a stop,

I try to look at your voice mumbling quips of that lost reality but I'm far too aware

of what lies above,

within the brown specks of iridescence

Oh god,

You've been there before

Are you there right now?

Why do you say these things,

why do I listen?