for someone whose not, you're just my type.

i love it when my nights don't end.
where the late blurry hours,
turn into bright early days.
who needs rest?
or at least, not much of it.

she breathes the sweetest smell of memory,
bringing me back, and grabbing ahold of me.
searching for the moments when these nights used to mean something,
back when accessories were cheap,
and visions of the evenings past still stayed with us.
i remember learning from my mistakes,
but now it seems i just relive them.
but for that one night,
that one moment where she was mine,
i was happy.
and i couldn't lose that if i tried.
you make me feel like the first day of spring,
stripping off clothes to get out to the country.
so young and alive,
and not ready to stop moving.
but then when it feels like the first day of autumn,
i'll be holding you close as the leaves burned red.