The Color of Love is Blue
We would have stayed up all night
smoking too many cigarettes.
Gotten exhausted with the gay-bar-scene,
dancing until our sweat turned blue from
beer & rainbow strobe lights.
Closing time & you’d whisper,
“I want you.” We’d always drive to
to your place & let our secret out.
I was straight, you gay
but we weren’t even ashamed,
our arms bared for hours.
Over breakfast we’d banter
about your hung-up family, my youth.
We drank so much coffee
the air cobbled but I never minded
because your eyes were the blue I craved.
I’d give up my sweet indulgence
in making love with strangers
just to have another long talk with you.
I’d go back home in the blue morning,
heavy snowfall significant
& memorable as my bones.
* From a journal entry written in 1982.
13 thoughts on "The Color of Love is Blue"
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F$CK! Hot blue cobbled skies!
What Manny said! The last stanza is golden/blue.
A beauty of a poem. “…your eyes were the blue I craved.” — Yes!
I love the blue line that you draw through this piece. This line ending the first stanza is a delight of surprising language with “dancing until our sweat turned blue from/beer & rainbow strobe lights.”
What a beautiful and strong snapshot of time, place, and connection. I really enjoyed reading this, Linda.
This is brrathtaking:
“I’d give up my sweet indulgence
in making love with strangers
just to have another long talk with you.”
What a write!
Genuinely gorgeous piece (and memories), Linda. From title through to end.
With Shaun on how you draw the blue through this piece.
Especially love the warmth and familiarity shown throughout.
Adore the use of the word cobble as verb and “dancing until our sweat turned blue” wow!
What no chain on earth could be fashioned to hold, you leash and tame with one beautiful blue delicate thread. 💙
Exquisite, Linda. A poignant memory, lovingly recalled and expertly expressed. I think you have a special feeling for us gay men, messed up as we are. Your love for us sails right over those small but inconvenient gaps between us. We love you right back.
Team Blue!
Sultry and tender with a longing, strong and true.
Love: “ the air cobbled but I never minded
because your eyes were the blue I craved.”
I don’t think I can add anything to what has already be said about this exquisite poem, but…
I’d go back home in the blue morning,
heavy snowfall significant
& memorable as my bones.
This poem takes me back to Columbus, Ohio, 1976-77, and guy named “Stretch” for his height who loved baseball. He wasn’t gay, but this poem pulled him out of memory and into my heart. He died last year. I hadn’t seen him since July, 1977, and still it cut me.
Thank you for this beautiful journal entry!
Beautiful memory and writing!