BLUE GOLD

I want to take in the blue gold with you and smell it's unmistakable.

European accent, so softly.

You laughed at my silly joke and saw as the pollen flowed to my cheeks, but I retreat with the wind.

I would watch you do nothing all day as you stand upon the soil, but for you to look back would kill me.

Speak or die, I ask.

You pull my petals one by one and I feel sick from my nakedness, but it feels oddly good to hurt.

And again, I'll ask why.
Why do I think this way?
Why do I obsess over every single vain that branches from your stalk?

And then I'll think of the blue gold,
And smell it's unmistakable.

As I lavare, your fragrance comes to mind.

Clothes bursting with the scent of suduction, yet mine are preserved in another field.

Your enigma keeps you wallflowered from the others, but I see you! I see your blue gold and smell your unmistakable.

I call you lavender.
Your rich blue highlighted by the golden hour.
Your smell is unmistakable.

Lavender. You make me cry with your beauty.

I want to kiss the path within your row of flowers and stay there for hours.

And then I look up. The blue is gone. I gasp for your sent, but only in my memory can I imagine such an aroma.

I choose to die, as to speak, I am so frightened.

So, In the meantime, I'll be thinking of the blue gold, and smell it's unmistakable.

This poem is about: 
Me
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