Bolt from the Blues

If you have not felt it
then it simply must not be
how the heart feels like it bleeds
and the ghost, how she whispers
from depths I feel I cannot reach
she feels these colours, I can only see
and how loudly she sings
of a world beyond me
her blues, an art
an airy canvas
filling the spaces
and painting the stretches
and how much of it
can I really understand
worse still when I lull her ears
with any infection I can dream up
until her screams rise
and exit my lips like laughter
madly as I smile at the sky
because I know something
she does not know
and that is the inevitable limit
of my shallow skin
releasing her, my tired breath
to become one with what I've never been