he is caramel and coffee,
roses and clementine,
pearls and clover,
the scent of fresh rain and hibiscus,
with eyes like tea leaves
and skin the color of nutmeg
he paints my heart every hue of gold,
as if it were a blushing sky
held in the palm of king midas' hand;
he emerges from the seafoam blur of the classroom,
bubbles up to my desk and leaves as quickly as he came,
leaving flowers in his wake-
blooming symphonies of spring;
serendipitous bliss
he's a limelight aphrodite
in vintage shirts and cuffed jeans,
striking me with meteors fired from cupid's bow, and
setting the butterflies in my stomach ablaze;
he looks like the moon,
smiles like the sun,
and i can't live without either thing.
i know i'm not his, but some selfish
part of me still wants to
take his hand in mine and
walk along the milky way with him-
we could sing along with saturn
and dance among the stars,
talk about lives we wish we had and
weave planets into each other's hair
