You are the Roman candle
in my hand
blasting fireworks into
the crisp New Year’s Eve air.
You blow my expectations,
my perceptions into a
pyrotechnic pinwheel parade.
You blow my hesitations,
my rationalizations into
revealing rainbow rockets.
You make me squeal at the
force of your
freestyle firecracker fusions
and you shake me a little
each time you shoot a
shower symphony of
starburst sparklers.
You light me up from within
but it can’t stay there.
The proof is written in the sky.

Have I told you lately? …
You blow my mind.


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