I am

The butter on your morning toast.

Honey in your tea.

Fuzzy reflections of a candle.

A type two ticonderoga pencil.

The discoloration of an old books’ pages.

Sunlight dancing through the trees.

Hearts of daises. 

The lines you don’t dare cross on long winding roads.

Unpredictable, confusing,

Warm and sweet.

I am a girl,

But on these pages,

I am more.

I am sunlight.

I am a flame.

I am comfort.

And apparently–

Butter on toast.