There's this sky I like. Before the clouds disintegrate into droplets, before the sky opens up in flashes, and shows glimpses of heaven. It's the sky before the storm. It's when clouds turn purple and melt into black and when you know something big is about to happen.
There's this sky he likes, before lovers stroll along shaded paths, before runners trace steps on concrete tracks, before the earliest of rises climb out of their beds, it's the sky at dawn, it's when the clouds become wisps and the sun breaks through and the sky is illuminated a rose-hued pink and when you know you have a fresh start.
I think that's why we repel each other, like the opposite ends of magnates, our skies are too different. So I'll leave him with his rosy hues and sunlit romance, because there's this sky I like.
