Blue!
Virtuous Blue!
A cerebral current.
Lazy river.
"To cool off."
They moved into a house together. The virtue of the same reciprocal blue is not a known virtue. White in blue intellect together it means they recognized each other's saddest emotions, and beauty therein a problem: for they did not think sad emotions were supposed to be pretty. Where had they one wrong? Where they could feel in other colors they knew not, for that is how tightly blue clasps us; this is its Blue Dimension. To hold only Blue as deep as it goes.
To hold other colors, a sparkling fancy in an ocean, they realized, they were blue together and they needed tight friendship and connection to heal the emotions they shared.
But they were not sad sometimes because their blue virtue, the one that they shared that allowed them to speak. To know each other this way, led them on to other virtues the triviality of which, the fancy of its accentuation like the clues under water they had already trampled over.
They decorated together. They ate together, and told funny stories all night about other suitors whose femininity was right in front of you the whole time.
He was like, "that's my computer; it plays music. Dorian Electra, Grimes. You choose.
And I was like, "Grimes."
"Sure."
So Grimes starts playing and I move the living room table out of the way. And I just dance right there. And he comes up behind me like a muscle man, cradling my dance moves with his.
Identity, in short.
The virtue of Identity around strewn positive images and collectibles. An identity I always wanted.
Then Care and Attention.
Reciprocal.
Intersectionality.
Blue, to be two blue humans.
Our jewellry is blue.
We sustain each other through language.
"Why?" she finally said.
"We both like each other. It is clear."
"We do. We recognize each other's emotions."
"No wonder we're both blue. We haven't shared like this before."
"We are both quite deep."
"No wonder we needed each other's attention."
But who had the most depth? Their relationship developed around the competition of said fact. Then one moral excuse here. One moral excuse there. A revisited reciprocity. They shared the excitement of pressing one another on to reveal most deep secrets.
Then they found out. Hakon's were deeper because they were even touched on what they were and were not, that he could explain them better without his rival even realizing what they were.
The deepest voice therein was let. It said nothing, but a moment's pause on its existence brought to question how it would speak. But it had. Without saying anything.
A blue voice, in case you didn't know.
They wrote each other poems and reflected on them together. Blue, like a reflective prism in which values are stored, each uniquely stored. And they lived together like that. Collecting values. For as soon as they would leave their home, their blue charm emerged they from its depths and that charm stayed with them through all their days together and apart.
He's in a stasis field, they thought whenever they were home together.
A Blue stasis field.
"Let's be blue clowns together."
A Blue Dimension. They would find other Colors of Dimensions together but first they had to solve the Blue Dimension. "Love is a bird, she needs to fly, let all the hurt inside of you die," says Madonna.
A place for letting pain die.
Behold they spoke Lore to one another. Hi, how are you? Are you okay today? And they watched the funniest myths taking place and wrote their own implausible scenarios, "keep acting them out." Under the guidance of Hakon Borgen.
"Are you mything me right now?"
"I'm not mything anybody sir."
"I'm right here."
"Ya you are. I'm not mything you you're right here."
"But you myth something about me."
"Don't I do."
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