A painting hangs outside.
A blend of your favorite color is painted twice a day, a kaleidoscope of the entire color palette.
Inside the frame, my long forgotten friend rears its round head (not as oval as yours), and slowly arcs across the sky, to illuminate the way, so that your favorite colors can descend safely alongside the light of day. In few minuets of pixies covered in star dust, the darkness of the night hungrily devours the moon.
Alone, I sit and admire what could be a perfect evening spent with you.
But I cannot deny the beauty of this moment, and as I reminisce about the past, a fresh set of rain washes away the painting like a distant memory.