I am not yet in love

It's starting to get warm again

And the biting of my layered flesh has dissipated.

The air is sweet and warm,

of freshly planted lavender and tulip buds.

I don't fight the wind that brushes back my grown-out roots,

I soak her in,

let her bathe me in promises of new beginnings.

She whispers in my ear of times now past.

Coating my nostrils with memories she thinks I'd like to remember.

But it is not yet warm enough, nor am I in love.

shielding my naked body from the crisp cuts of the wind.

I'll wait for the snow to melt-- perhaps thaw out my insides,

and leave me open and receptive to the bitter taste of love.