If I were asked to define you,
I wouldn’t have an answer.
There are some things your body just knows,
your heart just claims,
your soul just understands.
That’s what I’d say philosophically,
as if I’m one to have all the answers.
But truthfully I don’t know how to explain
hands that both cradle
and send shivers up my spine.
A mouth that is tender
yet fierce. Eyes that see to the inside
of my mind and make me forget
the ground I’m standing on.

If I were to define you,
I’d say you are the quiet
of a rainstorm, when the world waits
with anticipation for the thunder to roll again.
I’d say you were the static in a room
or the lull in a song, just before the chorus,
patient but heavy, dramatic.
I would say you’re a summertime kiss
still wet on my lips.
Electric. Dizzying. Fleeting.

Yes, if they asked to define you,
I’d say you’re like most beautiful things.
Only fully understood after they’re gone.