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.