Out of Your Bone, Clam

The stained knife shouts:

Out of your bone, Clam.

The sun burns impossible,
Searing your grey seaflesh,
Radiating through it.

Pulling and chill,
The blue of the sky will burn you blue.

The sea and the sky twilights
Drown you-
The Gloaming, dyeing you blue.

Binding pigment to iron,
Bluing seals the barrel of a gun,
Protecting the gun,
Blackening it for it's work:

One shot into the blue.

Blue is the hot infinity,
Burning cold to the touch.

Bodhisattvas come by twos,
The domes of heaven grown inside their skins,
Blasting blue to sentience.

Soak it up Clam, out with you.
Soak in the unbinding blue,
And sprout joyous chromataphores.

A hucksters's safety was that bone.