by Lynn Kim Do

Blue | | Poetry by Lynn Kim Do

Blue has been my favorite color for awhile now. The only way I can really explain it is by sharing my own personal writing. I've only realized how intricate tied I am to this color by the way it weaves in and makes an appearance in some of my writing. This is quite an intimate piece of work. I barely call it poetry. It is a series of words in thoughtful and careful sequence that I rarely share to people. It's a series of sentences that explicitly a thought that I'm dwelling in. Hold the finger snaps, please!

Tory Burch - Sunglass Hut // Blue Wool Cape - Moschino // Black Crop Top - Urban Outfitters //  Blue Fur Vest // Rose Velvet Bottoms - Bebe 

by Lynn Kim Do

If you are hope, you are a wick waiting to be lit. Why be hope when you can be light. In spectrums of colors. But I prefer to be blue. Right in the center of the flame, right where it hurts, where it's beautiful.


All but blue flames exist inside me. You, you burn. So fast. The pain so vast. You'll doubt my participation. You'll blame the sun. When I was burning in between the tips of your fingers. Creating ash from your strands of hair. Kerosene leaking from my mouth to yours. Light it with my tongue. Until you rise from the dead, a grand Phoenix. And I'll ride you. 


When the flame makes it bitter to live inside your own flesh. When the light feels darker than the back of your favorite eyelids. When it becomes unrecognizable and you can barely use it to describe the sky you always knew. 
Blue. I finally understand why we bleed blue.

Photos by Scott Brasher