Untitled

Sometimes you’re a book
That I can read cover to cover
Clean, crisp and clear

Or you’re like the smell of oranges
Rising, waking, ready for a new day
Like the color of morning sun


You’re the rush of the city
The buzzing of people
The ever glowing of street lamps at midnight

You’re the feeling of bed sheets
That hug the curves on my skin
Never too hot, always generously warm

Sometimes you’re little moments
Figures knit to the hip, snippets of the future
Images I hope we become

You’re the x factor
The number to isolate
The algebra equation too complex to understand


You’re my ripple affect
My beginning and my end
A race I must win

But the snow is melting
Winter’s leaving
And I no longer need your sweater.