You, Coatlicue

You
left too,
Coatlicue-
undressed and blue-
in plainest view
were made so new,
filled with dew,
and rued
few.

Ars Poetica

(I lost [count)ing in the den,]
(a long [time) made short work of what]
(ago, [might) be lasting affection.]
(we start [again), I'd left to]
(please? Try not to [be) entertained]
(angry, I'm [in) my mind, drawing]
(a daze and could use [some), kind of butterfly.]

Conjecture

When I was
four-colorable and green spots
(new) went undesired
we threw them on golden
sheets and slept in fire,
(red,yellow,orange).

O three-cycle, how can you not be
only blue and black?
With gentle necessity, you've said
"No" to white so many times I can't
believe I'll live without
this wavelength. Light-determined,
mauve and melancholy, our edge
dissolves and you're all-fine.

But which hue must become (or disappear)
should I choose to leave the plane?