What is He Like?
He’s like the warmth of a comforter on a nippy day.
He’s like the first sip of the morning tea.
He’s what a charger is to a cell phone with a 1% battery-life.
He’s like the earthy scent produced after the first rain on dry soil.
He’s like the sight of cotton candy to a child in a fair.
He’s like the reader, whose arrival is awaited by an old, ignored book.
He’s like the first flower in one’s garden, tended to for months.
He’s like the feeling of the adrenaline rush you get,
when a roller coaster reaches the top and is about to fall as if into the pitfalls of the unknown.
He’s like the warmth of the tears of happiness, trickling down one’s cheek.
He’s like the feeling of cold water down one’s parched throat on a hot, summer day.
He’s like the happiness you get from your first everything,
from the first kiss, to your first sip of whiskey, to the first late night hookey.
He’s like the broken crayon, which still remains one’s favourite shade.
He’s like the feeling you get, when you excitingly turn the pages of a book,
wanting to know what the next chapter holds for you, but fearing the end too.