It was a Thursday,
And you were wearing rose lip gloss.
It was just about to rain.
You know when you can smell
The deep blues and violets
Of a coming storm?
And you can taste the moisture on your lips?
And you can see the giant, ever-changing castles in the sky?
I could sense that it was coming.
Not a bad storm,
But a baptism that would wash away the past.
A new beginning…
A beginning to the end.
It was a Thursday.
And your dark hair was in a ponytail
Except for a couple errant strands.
I loved you on that day.