you are red lipstick stains on white wine glasses
and the pale blue smoke
of a cigarette

the hot tang of fruit perfume
and sticky, sloppy kisses

graph paper, ballpoint pens, coffee with milk,
Christmas lights, *****, socks

you're ice cubes in hot tea and
boots in the snow and lace curtains
and most of all you're slow, uninhibited
conversations at 2am

you are laughter and candles and
I'll never be cold again

and your eyes aren't quite one color
and they aren't quite another
but they sure are lively
and they sure are bright

I want you and a pile of blankets and
a rhythm of raindrops on the roof

and we'll pretend to hate domesticity
while we cook food together and
work on chemistry

well, I've spent a long time hating
myself and a lot of time trying to fix
what I now know wasn't broken

but when I've got the soft dizziness
of an alcohol stupor and a handful
of your hair and you tell me I feel
"right," it's easy to forget that I was
ever so sad

It's easier to breathe.