A poem by Foteini Salvaridi
I told you that you,
your exhaustion and your persistent struggle,
are included in this mixed palette of blue feelings I experience lately
-but also since always-
and it was nice to hear
that somehow this was comforting for your soul.
I just heard the other day,
while waiting for the subway, the blue line
cis female to cis male: “you don’t have a chance for this job unless you are a woman, a gay person, a disabled person or a blue one.”
and in the blink of an eye I felt again that familiar feeling
That bluest blue
but blue enough to include you too.
So, I cherish this blue
if it fits us all well
if I can stare into its vast depth
and see us all
See the blue person getting the job
heading to the very same subway station on a typical Tuesday
standing on the right side of the escalators
making space for other people in a rush to pass by
staring at the ceiling, walls and floor
all into lively blue hues.
It recognises me from a far and waves its hand
then we both get into the subway
share our bad day at work and our plans for the weekend,
a smile and a kiss before disembarking.
It was just another f*cking exhausting job after all.