He takes pictures of the sky
He says it reminds him of me
He says it's beautiful
But on the days he doesn't, does it mean the sky is ugly
Does it mean I'm ugly
California skies are forever changing
One day beautiful auroras of purple and orange
Then next no sun to make a color, except gray
Does he look at me the way the sky acts
Does he see me beautiful one day and the next day not
Does he looks at the bipolar skies and compare me
The California skies sensitive with tears every other day
The California skies happy with yellow beams coming out of its eyes
The California skies providing a warm summers kiss on the cheek so delicate
The California skies creating lightening storms from one little change in the atmosphere, ignoring the pleads for communication
Am I the California skies?
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