Today the sky is cotton candy bubblegum,
fluffy, with spaces in between.
Blue, drowned in aqua,
and it tasted like a variety of things.
It tasted like my first kiss,
on the merry go round.
It tasted like that delicious sound,
schoolbooks make,
when they finally hit the ground.
It tasted like firefly lights,
and fireworks,
in the middle of June.
It tasted like starry nights,
pillow fights,
it tasted like it would be over too soon.
It tasted like me and you,
versus the other team,
water balloons and chemistry.
It tasted like half thought out vacations,
to our own island by the stream.
And when the cotton candy bubblegum flavored sky was gone,
I stuck it under my chair for memories.
I'll sometimes see that chair again,
and wonder if anyone else is chewing on their sky piece.