Thoughts From Living Artwork.
"Well, most people would call it blue."
It was more of a blue.
Blue.
Blue like the sky Matthew used to sit under when he was little. On sunny days, he would look at the clouds float by, imagining some sort of magic kingdom above them. Matt always told him that when they got older, he’d build a rocket ship to take them all the way to clouds, so they could meet the cloud people.
Sea blue.
Blue like the wide expanse he and Matt would go swimming in, whenever he’d cry enough crocodile tears and guilt trip his mom into taking him. It’s ironic, now that he thinks of it, that they’d spend the first ten minutes playing around, before devoting the rest of the day, trying to build the perfect sandcastle. But no matter how hard they would try, the water always managed to sneak up and destroy their creation. Matt always laughed, and began trying to build another.
Navy blue.
Blue like Matt’s sheets, where they would spend secret nights, loving each other passionately, or smiling starry-eyed and whispering promises of forever. Some days, they were like a safe haven to Fazzi, warm and inviting, when things weren’t well at home. Matt would curl right behind him, and he’d drift off into a world where nothing mattered but the two of them.
Ice blue.
Blue like the pain Fazzi felt after being away from Matt for a couple of weeks. It sat in his chest, a sharp pining, until he got back home, where Matt promptly whisked him away to his bed, and they spent the whole night loving each other. Matt told Fazzi he loved him, and Fazzi just giggled and kissed him on the nose. He was curled into Matt’s chest all night, and for once, he didn’t need to drift off into another world, because his real world was lying right next to him.
Strange blue.
Blue like the way the moonlight would reflect off Matt’s face, at nighttime. They would sneak out sometimes and lay on the sidewalk, kissingkissingkissing, ignoring late night cars and joggers, until the moonlight dried, and the sun peeked out to bid them a good morning.
---
It is more of a blue.
Happy blue.
Fazzi thinks, looking across the room at Matt, who is moving some piece of furniture for the third time in thirty-eight seconds. He’s still thinking, biting on his lip as he does so, even as Matt strides a little closer.
“I should be worried.” Matt says gravely. “You have your thinking face on.”
“Ha.”
“Seriously, last time you thought of something, I ended up in the hospital with fifteen stitches in my arm.”
Fazzi pulls him closer. “I was just thinking of something else.”
“Like what?” Matt smiles and kisses him, looking up with those happy blue eyes of his.
Yeah. Happy blue.
“Like your eyes.”
“My eyes?” Matt chuckles at him.
“Yeah.” Fazzi shrugs. “I’m trying to decide what color they are.”
“Well, most people would call it blue…”
Fazzi rolls his eyes, and leans down to kiss Matt again. “The specific kind of blue.”
“Come up with anything?”
“Happy blue.”
“Because I’m happy?” Matt smiles.
“Well, are you?” Fazzi narrows his eyes playfully.
“Definitely.” He walks slowly toward their bedroom. “But a little more happiness never hurt anyone.” He takes off his shirt, and throws it backwards, where it hits Fazzi in the face.
"Oh."
Matt shrugs, and continues his slow pace.
“Are you—“ Fazzi begins, peeling off the shirt from his face. “Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?”
“Just a little.” He turns around, eyes shining. Fazzi smiles, and chases after him.
It is definitely more of a happy blue.
Blue.
Blue like the sky Matthew used to sit under when he was little. On sunny days, he would look at the clouds float by, imagining some sort of magic kingdom above them. Matt always told him that when they got older, he’d build a rocket ship to take them all the way to clouds, so they could meet the cloud people.
Sea blue.
Blue like the wide expanse he and Matt would go swimming in, whenever he’d cry enough crocodile tears and guilt trip his mom into taking him. It’s ironic, now that he thinks of it, that they’d spend the first ten minutes playing around, before devoting the rest of the day, trying to build the perfect sandcastle. But no matter how hard they would try, the water always managed to sneak up and destroy their creation. Matt always laughed, and began trying to build another.
Navy blue.
Blue like Matt’s sheets, where they would spend secret nights, loving each other passionately, or smiling starry-eyed and whispering promises of forever. Some days, they were like a safe haven to Fazzi, warm and inviting, when things weren’t well at home. Matt would curl right behind him, and he’d drift off into a world where nothing mattered but the two of them.
Ice blue.
Blue like the pain Fazzi felt after being away from Matt for a couple of weeks. It sat in his chest, a sharp pining, until he got back home, where Matt promptly whisked him away to his bed, and they spent the whole night loving each other. Matt told Fazzi he loved him, and Fazzi just giggled and kissed him on the nose. He was curled into Matt’s chest all night, and for once, he didn’t need to drift off into another world, because his real world was lying right next to him.
Strange blue.
Blue like the way the moonlight would reflect off Matt’s face, at nighttime. They would sneak out sometimes and lay on the sidewalk, kissingkissingkissing, ignoring late night cars and joggers, until the moonlight dried, and the sun peeked out to bid them a good morning.
---
It is more of a blue.
Happy blue.
Fazzi thinks, looking across the room at Matt, who is moving some piece of furniture for the third time in thirty-eight seconds. He’s still thinking, biting on his lip as he does so, even as Matt strides a little closer.
“I should be worried.” Matt says gravely. “You have your thinking face on.”
“Ha.”
“Seriously, last time you thought of something, I ended up in the hospital with fifteen stitches in my arm.”
Fazzi pulls him closer. “I was just thinking of something else.”
“Like what?” Matt smiles and kisses him, looking up with those happy blue eyes of his.
Yeah. Happy blue.
“Like your eyes.”
“My eyes?” Matt chuckles at him.
“Yeah.” Fazzi shrugs. “I’m trying to decide what color they are.”
“Well, most people would call it blue…”
Fazzi rolls his eyes, and leans down to kiss Matt again. “The specific kind of blue.”
“Come up with anything?”
“Happy blue.”
“Because I’m happy?” Matt smiles.
“Well, are you?” Fazzi narrows his eyes playfully.
“Definitely.” He walks slowly toward their bedroom. “But a little more happiness never hurt anyone.” He takes off his shirt, and throws it backwards, where it hits Fazzi in the face.
"Oh."
Matt shrugs, and continues his slow pace.
“Are you—“ Fazzi begins, peeling off the shirt from his face. “Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?”
“Just a little.” He turns around, eyes shining. Fazzi smiles, and chases after him.
It is definitely more of a happy blue.
♠ ♠ ♠
:)