I close my eyes and listen to you lie.
You tell me that mustard is the color of the sky.
I open my eyes and don’t dare look.
I clench my hands as they shook.
I ask, “Then what about the sun?”
It looks like a turkey way past done.
I do everything not to smile,
but his charm creeps in after a while.
Maybe I misunderstood.
I wonder if I love him. I surely could.
Before I can look up, he stops me.
He asks, “You believe it? How can that be?”
Suddenly, his lips touch mine.
I never thought his skin could be so fine.
Again, I close my eyes,
but this time I picture the mustard skies.