Little Blue

O precious sulphates
soft in this tracksuit, taken
to drift
a new blue
raspberry blown
on my lips
now I worry
the pills, each
shade of robin’s
egg Aegean day
and the slowest release
   of seasonal desuetude
elastic at the waste of waiting
 too much, your threads synthetic          
ripple into foamy Neptune
   and I rise to that wet
   firmament/stimulant