You are my coffee on Sunday morning
and pink roses next to my birthday cake.
You are eyelash kisses
and drizzle on lilacs in Spring.
You are fresh white sheets
and a cloudless sky in early June.
You are white chocolate gelato
on Île St. Louis cobblestone.
You are licking magnolia frosting off pink fingertips
and thick vanilla pudding at a State Street café.
You are amethyst and sparrow songs
and a million different shades of violet.
You are sugar cookies and snowflakes
and lilly nectar in hot tea.
Ancient men with thick beards and piercing blue eyes
have traveled mountains for millennia
looking for wisdom and power
and the true essence of God,
but I am here, sugar cane on my lips
and strawberry fields in my heart,
knowing that if there is meaning to hearts beating,
it is the sweetness of your hands.
— "Confectionary" by Eveline St. Lucia (via theinvincibleheart)