I can’t resist the color blue —
the shade that haunts me from your eyes,
can’t eat or sleep, I tell you true.
I close my eyes and find your gaze.
I see it everywhere, that hue!
I’m hopeless now, I’ve got it bad!
I cannot help but think of you —
the denim that molds round your thighs
— it marks my soul like a tattoo.
Magic 9 – According to Robert Lee Brewer, this form is a newer form, relatively unknown, and appears to have been inspired by a poet misspelling the word “abracadabra.” There are no rules as far as meter or subject matter–just a rhyme scheme: abacadaba. (Remove the r’s from “abracadabra,” )