Paint my fingers with that nine
dollar Canadian nail polish. Paint
my world green as aspens,
green leaching from my fingertips, green
as the moss that grows on my childhood
swingset. Paint my everything
green, engulfing me, covering
my world, comforting me.
Watch as I put on my fern-tinted sunglasses.
Watch as I lay on the grass.
Give me matcha lattes, key lime pie, Purell hand sanitizer buildup,
kiwis, children’s Crocs, the California woods, crocodiles.
Give me rolling hills, my father and I in the trees,
sitting by an algae bloom, drinking cocoa out of
green plastic cups.
Give me Starbucks at five a.m. after skating practice, the color I crave on tests, my track jersey, my little green dress.
Give me the color of plants I braid, and the color
of his irises when I had my first kiss; give me the color of the flower stems painted on my walls, the color of Expo on the whiteboard, the color of Hozier and Lord Huron and Noah Kahan, the color of entire nights spent on Spotify. I’m aurora borealis
over the North Pole, guacamole
on a hot summer day, Trader Joe’s limeade
waiting in line for a concert, vegetable hummus wraps spilled over the picnic blanket. I’m homemade
Caesar salad on Tuesdays, text messages late at night, Granny Smith slices with peanut butter, the grass underneath my feet
when I threw cake at my best friend, moss growing on that branch I tried to do pull-ups on, the oak leaves
pressing into my thighs when I
told my boyfriend to kiss me
at our school, which was Greene too.
Please, let me keep my green thumb
and my wildflowers in the garden, please, let the
memories of my childhood never fade, please
keep me drenched in this green world, god,
I never want to leave.
