I know I'm just a beachcomber
A man of straw
A triviality
A novelty with no nic or knack
And I'm not waiting for a kickback
Still,
A stroke of genius
Under halogen lights
These hands manifest obscurities
Blind to weaker minds
In a space where safety won't disintegrate
You'll be restored
And I'll be yours
Significant and serious
Notable in our delirium
I've taken on the task
Of unraveling the color blue
A shade that seems to frighten you
So I've stripped it down to wavelengths
I'll be your color theory concubine.
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