The days are warmer now—you spill everywhere,
even the shadow is formed in your shape.
There are parallels to love and strawberry-sweetness,
the tartness breaks on tongue first, before memory floods us.
Say cheese—I will think of your aureole second and you first,
every time I think of today. The mundane becomes a wild
softness in your presence, I do not know what to expect next.
The sky ripens to a peach, I do not pluck it to share with you.
Instead, I let the next couple feast on it,
comment on the floral sweetness of it.
I let them have it because today,
tomorrow—I have you.