Obscura

You are the first stormy rain of April,
And there is nothing you can do
About your dazzling disposition.
Reposition.
You are the winter walks on the moon,
And I am the summertime smog
Drifting in the mid July air.
Prepare.
You are the frosty blue lagoon,
And your skin is as fair as the shoreline clues
Breezing through my midnight cruise.
Infuse.