The color of the sky bounces off your hair.
I swear it fuels you.
You’re on your feet and running through the streets.
Letting strangers in on your knowledge.
Your head is the evening.
Freckles fly around your face as if they were birds heading East.
I mistake your hair for the summer sunset that is approaching.
Is this what he loves about you?
I understand.
Those things assist in the reasons I love you.
Maybe you’ll understand some day.
Author Bio:
Morgan Cook is currently attending Front Range Community College in Longmont, Colorado, with hopes of pursuing a degree in English with a minor in Poetry.