When I was young,
I touched the sky.
I swirled my little fingerprints
through the blue that
could not be matched by any
hardware store
paint chips.

When I was done
I grabbed a handful.
I put it in a plastic bowl
and ate it with a spoon.
The sweet warm color
filling my stomach
until I was nothing but
a blue silhouette
with cloud-stained cheeks.

After awhile,
The sky whispered in my ear,
asking me to come visit him,
because it was lonely.
Up in the atmosphere
So I got in my father's pick-up truck
And asked the sun to take me there.
As long as she got me home by dinnertime.
I sat in the front seat,
my feet not even touching the pedals.
But the sun didn't mind.
She said she would
Rather sit in the passenger seat anyway.

When we pulled
Into the sky's driveway,
the sun kissed me good-bye.
My cheek glowed
Where the sun's lipstick touched me.
I watched as the sun drove away,
then I ran to the sky's front door.
Knocking politely
like a young lady should.

The sky welcomed me in.
His living room
was adorned with
white fluffy chairs
made of clouds.
He gave me freshly baked cookies.
That tasted like blue.

I stayed for hours
listening to the sky tell stories
of flying horses and purple lightning.
None of which I think were true,
but I listened anyway.

But then it was time to go.
The sun walked in the room,
and told me it was almost dinnertime.
So I kissed the sky good-bye.
And told him that I'd see him soon
but for now I was hungry,
and we were having
spaghetti for dinner