"That is the best blue I have seen all week," you said to my hands

I was walking home on Calle Loiza in the evening with paint all over my hands from a mural job when you stopped, looked at the color, and said, that is the best blue I have seen all week. You were wearing a guayabera of the same blue. We stood there like two people proving a point. Then you went to catch a bus and I did not catch my breath. I kept the blue. It is under my fingernails. It is still there. It is the best blue I have had all week.