this is a poem
but must it be a metaphor?
my lips, are they really gentle winds, 
yours, the ocean breaking into the shore?

you are not a breeze or the
calm before the storm
or the night sky when it feels too big to process
you are like these things, maybe, 
but you are more

this doesn’t need to be a metaphor
but i don’t know what else to say

i could tell you that i love you but
god, i’ve said it before, so many befores
and i could tell you that your hands on my back 
make me feel something i can’t explain 
but it’s useless 
(unexplainable things make for useless words)

so i’ll settle for this metaphor
your hips are thunder 
and your hands on my chest like the rolling hills
and your kisses on my lips, 
there are not enough metaphors for that