My extraodinary

You go about making yourself ordinary,
Mimicking the wildlings in summer swoon.
They strut their stuff, dazzle with their half kind eyes
That crinkle at the edges
With the words “do not touch” etched over their hearts.

You go about comparing tornadoes and hurricanes;
Single occurrences
To an ever lasting season,
Cold or warm, harsh or mild
You are a climate and more than just a moment in time.

They,
My other loved ones, are unwilling filler in a majestic port trait of us
They exist to highlight your moods and gloss your finish.
You are the thread and the fabric of every inch of this reality and
They, mere remnants of engineered dreams.

I couldn’t dream your perfection.

I do not miss the twinkle of unattainable boon
The fringes of ill thought romantic binges
That wildlings bring
Summer resides in your eyes and blooms at your touch
"love" is the word etched over your heart.