You slow everything down
with the tips of your fingers.
You put a finger up to your lips,
eyebrows raised, forehead furrowed, face divine;
and I look back in wonder at this human-being,
the blood in my veins singing, ‘Mine. Mine. Mine’
Though I struggle to write even a single line
on how this piece of heaven came to be mine.
(They say grab good fortune when it comes, don’t ponder why
So I’ll let this go and just bask in your ‘Hii’)
you make the summer fly by faster
with your laughter,
the last laugh still lingering
on your breath; and in my smile.
Like a pendulum that can’t control its speed,
I feel the wind flying through my hair,
weaving strings of happiness through the warm air.
I hate winters, as a norm.
But when I reach into your pockets to keep my fists warm,
Your exasperated smile makes the fog melt away,
and the barren chill a little less grey.
A little chai with extra sugar,
though I’d be ready to compromise on the first two.
Title: Animal Collective. Winter’s love.