She was the bluest sky. A beautiful lie. Love and pleasure, sunshine torn by stormy weather. Cold December but as giving as mid November. She was cool and calm, with an attitude explosive as an atom bomb. She was real and she was blue. There's was never a time her lies hadn't come true. She'd replaced silence with noise and I believe every hour spent with her was always pure joy. She's an amazing woman but I am just a boy. There's no relation. Every attempt of conversation is blocked by some random complication. Why do I forget how to talk every time I walk in her eyes. I get lost in my words before I can even make them rhyme. .