me and Billie Holiday

me and Billie, we was only dreaming...

long slow indigo-wrapped lamentations and

ivory-tipped suicideations and

sweeping depressionist landscapes,

textured brass hope and quartet feel-lines,

sweet soul-full please-be-mines and

longful aching love-is-blinds and

violence-kissed landmines…

and when you listen right these Lady-sung truth blues are the perfect Holiday,

cuz when life is only ever endless betrayals 

all heartache mayhems an

wretch-wrought blindsides and

ever-bruised yearning tides,

believe me darlings all you ever got to do is just close your eyes and

slide guitar up and out and through all the every-shades of woe

to the great blue beyond every now and then,

where the sunny side of lonely grief lives,

and just float there smiling and free on smoothest jazz rivertones, breathing deep

silkynote mourning moonfuls of all her saddest songs…

stunning pain-full and sorrow wake-dreams 

make stunning gorgeous colourwhirls and breathe the most alive,

ribbonflows wrapping warmest and holding surest

for all those any ever and always times

when broken heartsouls just got no one left and nowhere else to go…

cuz the love we can dream is all love ever is, blue or otherwise.