Hues of blues and grays melt into one,
making you whole in all your unholiness.

You fill a hole — a gap shaped just like you — in my heart with all your periwinkle, cerulean, etc.

We dance a seasick waltz around each other,
king and prince, prince and king (it doesn't matter who is who, all we know is we complete each other in some way or another).
I often eat frozen blueberries when I think of you,
as if each sphere would allow me to consume more and more of you.

I hope that's alright.
I forgot to ask for your permission, my liege.

Wrapped up in quilts made of each other's flesh,
we meld together to keep warm from the winter storm outside our castle.

Heart to heart to heart,
a broken cycle that never ends.

But it's alright,
since we're broken together.