I am summer's breath

light as sky

floaty as a feather tip.

I love warmth

and humming bird flutterings

which

to me fly

summer sweet.
 

You are intense,

a darker hue-

possessed,

obsessed

with wanting to spend

every minute with me.

Yet

can Summer Fire

and Winter Cold

co-habitate?
 

Will my Fire

melt your Ice?
 

Can your intensity

bend my Summer

to gravity?
 

I say let's take away

our layered clothes

and go bathe

in the ocean.
 

You say

someone might see.
 

I say let's dance here

on leafy ground

and you worry

out loud

about

being

too

demonstrative.

But if there is

attraction at all

it is in possession-ness

and you have plenty of that;

part of me

responds

to being

possessed.

I like it.

It offsets

my summer levity;

seems a balance

to

too much Summer Light.

And after all

isn't romance

the color of twilight

and candles

in that in-between light

not winter, nor summer-hued?
 

You're obsessed with me

and I walk you to the Cave's Mouth

and show you light,

which in the instant's moment

exposes you to

the Summer Side.

Isn't this then

more than mutual balancing?
 

Let us rather

call

it

Love.

I am willing

or is that too intense

for you?

Too much Irony.