In my sky, there is only room for me and the colour blue. I stretch my hands to catch the clouds that crawl across the sky. But like that time of yesterday, the moment is a fleeting warmth before my fingers become empty again.
I return to painting my toe nails but not my fingers because I don’t want anyone to see the colour but myself. I breathe in the scent of nail polish that carries itself along with the wind. I wonder if it would reach wherever he is. Staring at my toes, they peek shyly through the long grass. I never actually liked that colour. But it is his favourite.
I grab the small tube of nail polish and lie on my back. Against the deep velvet of the glass tube, the sky sadly stands no chance. Why can’t the two colours merge? It is not meant to be. The bottle is steadily emptying like the feeling that clenches my breasts. This is the last time. I must move on from this aging colour.
Standing up to my still wet toes, with the tube open I splash the empty sky. For that second, the sky was a blue canvas washed with the colour of goodbyes like a spontaneous kiss. Purple.