I’d like to think you are my snow. It appears this way because your love purifies the very thing that I run away from, and to, and fear and obscure my heart from- an act of honesty so pure and genuinely smoothed over time and into perfection of snow flakes that fall on closed eyelids and pink outstretched tongues. It seems this way, and it is. You are you and me and us and we.
I’d like to think you are my cloud. It appears this way because I’ve so very often sought and found refuge in the shadow of your under arm, here, or there, not leaving but living in a warmth scattered and shared rather than direct and incinerating. It seems this way and it really is. Even though I feel showers looming, I anticipate dancing in the rains and have no desire to run for some other alternate cover.
I’d like to think you are my rain. It appears this way because you fresh and refresh my soul and light and love and skin on pure skin and your smell teases my nostrils like fresh morning grass with pretty dew drops strokingly sliding down maple leaves and smiles and spring, and spring? And you spring into my heart and you help my hearts flowers blossom. It seems this way, and it really is. You nourish and feed my mind, inspire my thoughts and my words and my soul, and me.
I’d like to think you are my wind. It appears this way because you float and blow into the crevice of my achingly broken heart, and breathe new breath into my choked lungs and fill me full of love and life and a tingle that thrills still. It seems this way, and it really is. You drift into my head, as the cool breeze of a windy august evening, setting crooked and lopsided angles right against the edges of my frame, and I hang there, holding on to you.
I’d like to think you are my sun. It appears this way because your light emboldens and brightens my soul and dissolves my heart every time, every word, and every kiss planted, in a way that heat and radiation and fire only can do. It seems this way, and it really is. When I am cold, frigidly unrelenting, I am warmed by the passion of your heat of your ever burning fire for me and you and us and we.
Written by @DayDesola
