To Erik

You are
a familiar, intriguing mystery,
the delicate contours of your face
a sweet, dark puzzle that revealed
volumes to me before anyone else could.

You are
a bouquet of lovely surprises --
bright petals to tease neon girl-giggles
out of this pathetic, aging darkness that is me
on days it rains and I am lost.

You are
solid as stone in these arms,
remaining when others
slipped away to leave remains
and wait in a distant place for me.

You are
a gorgeous distraction,
causing emotions under guard to fall,
scatter, and bounce at my feet --
silly, colorful scraps of me for all to see

You are
dreams of wispy, baby-scented blondness
and pure blush brushstrokes on ivory skin,
warmth like dancing sunbeams,
vibrant and alive against my cheek.

Like clockwork comes my daily dare
to open these eyes with the hope of discovering
another miracle of morning before me
containing the glittering treasure of proof
you are not a dream at all but that

You are.