Malboro Blue-Benjamin Moore HC-153
By: Max Duckworth
The first raindrop to fall out of the cold, black sky surprised him,
The chills in the wind blew at his small rain-coat.
The tired boy walked,
To the neon sign sheeted by rain,
And a new place,
A million hours from home.
The wooden door opened,
And the cold AC batted against his face,
As did the tired, baggy eyes that surrounded him.
He leaned against the white tiled wall,
To lessen the weight of the wasted day.
His head turned from the cold, dull eyes,
To the bleak, black, boring night.
A lone, grey cat slinked to the window,
To look past the boy,
But to the dim light behind him.
But the true green of the cat’s eyes,
Finally met the Malboro blue of the boys.
The boy was gripped, fascinated,
By the deep green tundra trapped in the cat’s eyes.
He small, cold boy stared,
And allowed himself to enter the eternal eye,
The green deserts,
The green oceans,
The green mountains,
The green forever.
The boy in the small raincoat put his hand to the window
Gingerly. Inch by inch,
The enter the beautifully crafted infinity,
That was the set of eyes,
That belonged to the face of the grey, slinking cat.
The dripping wet boy stepped into the universe,
With a flash of light green,
He was in a whole new space.
The boy was now dry,
And sat in a field of vast, green wheat.
In this world was anything,
And everything.
Anything he wanted to be,
Everything he wanted to be.
He was a dragon,
He was a knight,
A source of infinite power,
In an infinite universe.
He gazed at the green waterfall,
Shimmering like a magnificent diamond,
That crashed into a deep, green beach,
Billions of oh-so-perfect sand grains.
The air was loud and perfect,
Matched only by the sea,
And the glimmering high-noon sky,
And its incredible heat the warmed his
New amazing skin.
He inhaled the hum of serenity,
And the grass sprang at his feet.
He was happy,
In this perfect world of his own.
SNAP!
The new world smashed,
Into a million tiny particles,
And scattered among a black abyss.
The boy was wet again,
The boy was cold again,
The boy was back
Again.
Looking out of the window,
At the cat,
And his emerald eyes.
The boy reached into his damp pocket,
And the hand mirror he clutched,
Was lifted to his face,
And he looked.
He looked into the mirror,
And into his eyes,
His beautiful Malboro blue eyes,
His eyes that stretched forever.
His eyes that contained a world,
A universe,
Of glistening, blue skies,
Of shimmering blue oceans,
Of vast, blue fields
And colossal, blue mountains that would leave Everest awestruck.
He sat amazed
I his own world,
His own wonder,
His won infinity,
His own forever.
And the cat slinked away,
Into the dark wet night,
To show another
Of the Malboro blue perfection.
