Supposing as I give
An ocean copied in cerulean,
The breadth of waves and troughs
On cloudy eulogies and vapor trails,
That bluing pulse whose saline
Verse precipitates a salve
For slated days and coral evenings.
Suppose I leave for rain
And for the monochrome to hold me,
For Paris and for paler smoke
To settle and to burn away,
As blue as eyes and orchids
And as fluid as a hope to change.