Echoes in Blue

It is not sweet, nor sharp, nor sour, but the silence of a midnight hour.

A ghost of frost on ancient stone, a whisper where the winds have blown.

The taste of blue, a phantom hum, where senses meet and overcome.

Like ocean depths, a mineral chill, a salt-kissed dream that lingers still.

The faint metallic tang of rain, washing away a subtle pain.

Or sapphire dust, on velvet air, a cool, profound, unspoken prayer.

It is the ache of distant skies, reflected in a lover's eyes.

A bittersweet and timeless grace, a tear upon a forgotten face.

The echo of a mournful song, where silent longing has been strong.

This flavor caught, so pure and vast, a moment meant forever to last.

A fleeting note, a shadowed sigh, the deepest truth beneath the eye.

The color's heart, upon the tongue, a silent verse, forever sung.