It’s a beautiful time of year. Almost as beautiful as you.

The scent of promise, the smell of skin, the bittersweet buzz of longing. This is how I feel you in my body.

Alive. Electric. Deep. Wordless.

These syllables are a proxy; nothing like the way I really feel.

Right now, the light is like honey and the air like feathers. The evening is made of music, and I’m already dancing.

It is almost as lovely as you.