Sensitivity

The air is crisp on my skin.

The heat from the fire barely pierces the cold, but the smell of smoke wrapping itself around my neck reminds me of home.

I can taste the sap boiling out into the subtle breeze.

My favorite thing, a blazing fire is,

But then I see you;

Your hair, your eyes, your smile.

Somehow, you still make time stop.

Somehow, I’m not over all the butterflies.

Somehow, seeing you still feels like the first time.

Somehow, you set me on fire just to inhale every bit of me. 

Somehow, I’m still falling, and, somehow, I know you’ll be there to catch me.

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