Green

It was the color of his stupid over-worn novelty socks. It was the color of his attitude when he opened the ice cream drawer and stated that he was having dessert for dinner. It was the color of my nightgown. The color of the soft silk resembling grass, soft and silk. We'd lay for hours. Is this the color of my eyes? It's the color of early morning coffee and kitchen talks about that book he'd read two weeks ago. It was the color of happiness. Of his tongue after Fun Dip and Jello shots at the Fourth of July party. The color of the fireworks that lit up in the sky, illuminating the pitch black night. The color of the glowsticks around his neck. The color of my mouth after he'd kissed me.