I met you in the winter, and I remember
Your hair burned like autumn leaves.
Like a fresh cup of coffee on the skin,
Like embarrassed, flushed red cheeks,
And like the suffocating stage lights.

I wished my tone was as warm as yours,
I wished my brain was as bright as yours,
I wished my words were as illuminating as yours.
But for now, all I can do is help you
Clean up your mess with my cold hands.