the cool, mid-afternoon breeze
flowing through my bedroom window
turns my heart to honey and
my feet into flowers,
rooted where I stand, though
I'm still not sure if I'm grounded
with the revitalization of defrost
or buried in unforeseen melancholy.

I eagerly await
To walk with you beneath
The shine of this summer's sun,
So maybe just then
You can feel a heat
Only rivaled
By the warmth
You bring to me.

You are to my touch
What a mountain view
Is to my eyes.

Our nights only sleepless
     Because our love never slumbers,

Whispering sweet nothings
     Better named "sweet somethings"

Because my yearning for you
     Is anything but a chasm coated with sugar,

But rather it's the draw of a future
     Laced with the hope of a content forever.

Never more have I wished
     For paper thin walls

Plaster white only rivaled
     By your porcelain pale skin

If not only to serve
     As some grand, seeing canvas,

Littered with words of our
     Half drunken slurs

And cozy expressions of love
     In a night yearning to stretch longer,

For if those walls could tell the tales
     Of our exploits through and through,

I'd trace them up, cut them out,
     And frame my adoration for you.

She compared me
To the sun,

And I felt nothing
But warmth

So it must be true.

And I'll forever affirm
There is no greater beauty
     Than the heavy silence
That accompanies the stagnant hymn
     Of a humble snowfall,
Bright against the murmuring
     Hum of a shadowy winter's night,

The world spinning slow,
     Frosty and quiet,
     Encased in white.