warm.

I would regard you like a long awaited weekend. 

The evening still and warm; my favorite.

Your tease of a cool breeze and tender starlight would get me everytime. 

A subtle dance of swirled ice cubes and cheap bubbles and man I'd swear I was flying 

And nothing was wrong. 

You were my last great love affair.

Rudely the sun rewinds on it's dutiful time piece. 

I'm searching again for my favorite moments. 

But something is missing!

Simply I've stumbled, tumbled, and rolled belly up into a maze.

One end holds my fear. The other holds what I love. 

But what I fear is what I love and to love organically is to be fearless;

So which way am I to land while still strangely hung up on that wistfully perfect moment? My favorite.