When you run your fingers through his hair, They burn as hot as the orange strands That streak through the red of his locks Which are too warm these fall nights.
You’re not sure when you realized that He wasn’t like you, Human and soft enough to be pricked by the knife’s edge That he playfully dragged across his tongue While looking at you with eyes that refracted the amber light of his soul.
He’s not sure when he realized that he’d stay, Far past the summer when you met On the sandy banks of the lake that swallowed light Until it was the same deep blue of your eyes, Binding him to your side long after the sun set And the rays upon the bed’s sheets had faded Into a warm glow in the dark.
When he runs his hands over your toes, Cooled by the coming winter That wraps you up in wool sweaters And leaves you huffing as he walks by in only jeans, He realizes that he dare not leave You to grow cold these coming nights.
A few years ago, I did not think I would be writing paranormal/fantasy romance poems.