I fall in love with all of the things that are subject to change—
The life that a leaf bares just before Fall sucks it dry,
Coffee before it’s been paired with rich Hazelnut cream,
The dry shoreline before high tide sweeps in to moisten its sand,
Pages in a black composition book before I write down all of my sleepless rambles.

But there are a few things I grew to love that change cannot touch,
My dear, it’s the color brown that shifts to amber in your eyes,
The intricate lines that form around your crooked smile,
And the way you loosely interlock your fingers around my neck,
When you tell me that I’m the first to enter warmly into your heart.