You are the dying summer
A burning August scorching the color into autumn.
You are San Francisco rain.
You are what it feels like to walk alone in a melting snowfield
And let the water soak through your worn winter boots.
You are alpenglow.
You soften the sharp metallic edges of a city bursting with cutting loneliness.
You are the first ambrosial sip of green tea after a 14-hour day.
You are silk sheets
And the taste of dark chocolate
And young moonlight.
You are warm eyes flecked with liquid gold.
You are the innocent wonder of the first snowfall
And the ancient silence of redwoods.
You are the heartbeat that drives the tide.
You are the wind fattening white sails
You are so beautiful.
You are the exquisite pain of loss.
You are a howl.
You are silence.
You are a kiss hello and a kiss goodbye.
You are long, reckless highway drives at ninety.
You are red
You are oceans of blue.
You are the arms at the airport that pick me up and spin me around.
You are the final wish.