Ten ninety-nine is neither here nor there
but colour-wise it isn’t what I’d thought
of having for the wedding. Scarlet. Deep,

unblinking wounds transfix my gaze, till deep
ravines hold out inviting arms and there
can be no sure escape. Perhaps a thought

would be the blue. A glimpse of sky. No thought
of drowning. Azure waves belie what there
lurks far beneath. Strong currents rule the deep.

Now, there’s a thought! Deep purple. Black Night.