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Portland Grace Dec 2014
We share a dream,
a hope,
of a little tiny house
with a basement
and knives not sold in a set.

Of a dog and a car
and a bed on the ground,
and being a little late on the monthly rent.

Of goodbye kisses
when you'd leave for work
and I'd be off to school.
Of watching snow
off our back patio
and sneaking into the neighbors pool.

Of borrowing each others flannels,
and kissing our noses
and drinking tea in springtime
before I prune the roses.

Of our morning coffee,
yours black, mine sweet,
and I'd still make fun of you
for the way that you eat.

For fights about vinyl
and paint and a movie,
but not about the things
that you shouldn't have done to me.

So we want that,
we both do,
and here's where it stinks
is that you ****** it up
in our fight after drinks.

And I know you regret it,
and I'm sorry to say
that sometimes apologies
don't cut it that way.

I miss you, I do
and you miss me too,
and I want our little house
and our dog and you.

But you put her name
above mine on the list,
and if you asked me a month ago
who I would want to kiss
to you I'd be true
but it wouldn't be me,
if they instead asked you.

We share a dream, a want and a need
for places colder,
for dirt and for skiis.
Of snow caps and pine trees
and people to leave.

But I don't trust you,
with my heart or my mind
and while I still really like you
I can't decide
if it's worth all this trouble
you've shook up in your wake
If your the one with the heart
or the one with the stake.
You are without a doubt  a yellow
You, are the sun, you rise and fall
Silently, your words each have meaning and so beautifully observant
It’s curious how you make me ardent
I wonder why that shade of gold stays frozen in my head
The eyes I forget what color sometimes, they make me weak
The curve of your nose alone had to be studied before I realized if I liked it or not
But you are as yellow as that raincoat you wear
And as soft as the night sky in summer
If you were a season, I don’t know which one you’d be
You are to others, summer, sunshine, fun, and the feeling of being young
But to me you could be winter, soft and a little bit cold in all the right ways
You could be sweaters and snow, and falling on skiis
You feel like Christmas and gliding across ice on skates
You could be spring, something very new and gentle, and the most vibrant colors
And natural smile that feels like an award
You could be fall, all the browns and oranges found in your eyes and lashes
The beautiful carved mountain side of your profile
The long limbs like tree branches with leaves fallen.
But I don’t even care what season you are because I want you year round
You are so much more then a period of time because you are a constant
No matter what emotion you are a constant sadness, euphoria, melancholy, mischief, anything I’ve ever felt all at once

— The End —