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Maple, Honey, and You

Dear Heart,

Honeycomb 

I keep expecting you every day; my days grow slow when you are not around, when I do not get to see the sunflower beneath the human skin. 

My warmth, my maple, my honey, without you, my days are quiet like a bunny, funny and unstable. 

I carry you like a gentle season of my heart, where I keep blooming from the inside out. You have remained an unwritten poem in my heart that I have begun to pour onto paper. 

You have become my sweet indulgence; people become intoxicated by wine, I by your sweetness. 

Till the next hot chocolate,

Bye.

~Zara M.

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