Trial and Error

I am trying to stir you into my tea, in with the honey and the chamomile. Trying to fold you into my winter clothes, trying to work you into the dough of me to see what kind of bread we will make. I have been looking for someone like you and I am trying you on like an Easter dress, and will you kiss my curves and skirt my hips or will you press my ribs too tightly? It is hard to know how you fit until I start to sweat. Until I taste you in my tea and in my bread crust, until I wake up tomorrow refreshed or hungover. All I want is to taste relief in your mouth. To push my arms through yours like sweater sleeves. But just wait until August comes, and it's coming fast. And I will start to melt, and I will shrug you off. And the time for tea will have passed, and I will kiss some other lemonade mouth instead.