the first time I saw you
was a bit like the first time
I tried hot coffee.
its warmth had stayed
present and persistent
within the cold of the fridge,
where it had been put
for safe-keeping.
I held it to me,
let it warm my hands
and face,
tested it with my pinky,
a cautious and silly procedure.
as I took a sip,
I felt the warmth run across my palette
and around my chest,
filtering through my frustrated,
sleepy persona.
instead of the warmth that one would feel,
I imagine,
when wrapped in their love,
engulfed, calm and washing over them like waves,
I felt a quick, rustling warmth.
I'm only beginning to adore you.
