He smells like the first day of winter,
Like the cold air after fresh snow.
He feels like Christmas and Easter,
Like the suspense before a surprise.
He looks like festive Christmas lights,
Like a beacon of radiant light in the darkness.
He sounds like the first few flurries of snow,
Like the cold breeze, a roaring quiet.
He tastes like the dying days of summer,
Like he's always been in a different time.
He is like the world, and the heavens and beyond,
Like the perfect night, or the immaculate finale.