You were speaking while I was writing poetry in my head
Back then, I saw you painted in deep red
When my fingertips boiled with fear
and pop from the air in my bones
You were random, embroidered lace
and I was only happy with the wind in my face

I told you there was nothing poetic about the need to be alone
You told me fear was present wherever love breeded
I told you love is an equation with no solution needed
You said love is distance and it meant listening to the echos and the sounds of space

You looked at the trees in the winter
with an admiration for endurance

In the evening, you were winter blue
but by morning, you were a soft amber hue
you were still blooming into someone new
and I just wanted to feel
something more than the air between my bones
and the words borrowed and loaned
that dropped from your jaw
I wanted the words planted in your stomach
I wanted the words that are raw
with the sensations and emotions
that set you into motion
Believe me, when I tell you, you are more than the color blue
you are the soft warmth in white light
you are the promise of the morning
when I only breath the night