As a habit I run fast, whenever I run, <br />whether its to the end of the block or into a dorm. <br /> <br />If I stay still now, I could your cinnabun, <br />And the flavor of cinnamon entices me, <br />its taste as old and warm <br />as the feeling of your sleeping breath <br />when I lie next to your nutmeg body. <br /> <br />Love could be another stop sign I jog past <br />but looking at you, my lungs have nothing left.<br /><br />Delilah Miller<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/another-stop-sign/
