It's cold,
but I don't feel it-
I'm in your arms.
And you are warm,
a summer day
on this spring one doing its best
to pretend its fall.

I will happily while away hours with you-
though maybe with less sticks poking
and leaves caught in hair-
for you're so wonderful.

Exams will end-
that means no papers-
that means more hours for you.

Relaxing,
easing,
the only gift that can be given
when your birthday comes
in the middle of Dead Week
as finals loom-
but that's all you'd ask for anyway,
reclining with those you care about

Fingers curled around wrists-
the flutter of a pulse under skin-
a hitch of breath-
the turn of a page-
a soft kiss pressed to skin unsuspecting
eyes suddenly losing focus-
a heart pounding-
the mind pulling itself back together-
a smile growing-

I am going to bottle this moment away,
and save it,
like I've tried to do with so many.

How I couldn't look-
my heart would have practically
jumped through my chest
having suddenly grown three sizes too big-

I'm finding myself
frequently blind from the brilliance of it all
when I'm around him,
more and more.

My other senses are just so much better
at taking him in
without being overwhelmed.

Packing up all of my things-
well just the essentials and favorites-
piece by piece,
and shifting them
away from the room
I've slept in for almost two years
for somewhere
without nostalgia
but also without a new cloud of doom.

Tension is easing from my body-
drip by drip
like the coffee my father makes in the morning-
slowly then all at once-

Am I still intoxicated?
Yesterday
was entirely
too much day
and perhaps I responded
less than maturely
but it was so nice
breathing in friendship
and drinking down courage.

I don't even feel bad,
just tired and a little dehydrated,
but that's normal.
A smile tugs at my mouth
constantly,
and I have so much energy.

I wish I got this high
from doing homework.

Tension grips tight,
fear and anxiety
that I have to beat back-

I needed help for it today,
and I have to remember
that it's okay.
But I still hate it.

But soon,
I'll be one step closer,
almost done
having learned all the French
this place can teach me.

Then I'll turn my eyes,
twist my tongue,
bend my eyes to Russian
or some other language
"just" for fun,
"just" to satisfy the yawning desire
to gather up languages and words
and scatter them out again,
much as I do with stories.

The plays go on,
I sit in half-darkness,
the headset chatter in one ear,
happiness in my heart,
wishing I could stay here longer,
yet also excited for the freedom
from the theater that is
just one short week away.

I'm forgetting the full stops
at the end of my poems-
but I think it's because
they are so little,
so off-the-cuff right now,
and so full of joy
that I don't want to end

I hope I did enough
that he knew he's loved,
and thought special-
so that he knows how wonderful it is
to simply sit in his company

I have no jokes today-
I'm not much of a prankster-
only joy.
Just smiles
and poems kept tucked away
for ears they are whispered into