I believe like all neogenesis of things I took one glance, walked right past you, deemed you vanilla to my dulce de leche, a plateau to my exponential temperament I read you like an open book, giving my hands something to do twirling your pages into dog-ears. I thought you would be The Count of Monte Cristo something to contend with I yawned through the early passages, eyes skimming, fetching for the scent of novelty or at least some resemblance of it, not yet knowing your weight Alas when I reached the middle, a bubble of eureka rose and burst quietly and suddenly I could smell you: that persimmon warmth, soft— a prelude to an aurora australis. I ached to see it in real time, but I was always elsewhere, busy with my growing pains That day, the clouds gathered and you became an umbrella I didn’t know I needed Rain hovered, hesitated, then spared me as if the sky had chosen you to intervene And when it passed, a quiet rainbow lingered soft enough to make me sigh You were the slow burner, the sleeper hit I needed as I ran a headless chicken, a fugitive with a generous bounty on my name Every day felt like sunbathing beside you, a quiet line cast between us, tugged gently as if something alive waited beneath And by the final twist, I caught myself smiling, adjusting my cloche a little foolish, a little proud like I had been chosen by something I didn’t deserve Now I don’t want to finish you To leave would mean closing an ephemeral classic none could rival or emulate You set the standard without asking to I hoard every paragraph even purple prose Because they sound like you when you almost say too much For you are the lavender rose I keep too close And I don't know If I want you to let you fade