Descibing self

I am like orange not quite made up on red
like blue with the hints of jealous green
waiting for a cloud to cover my sky 
a brilliant piece of paper
for which to write a thought

I am like wind, not quite a hurricane
though at times one might argue otherwise
like rain left mesmerized upon a pane of glass
left to ask the question of what is next
as it trails after gravity

I am like a window not yet rid of rose
like hazelnut coffee filled with raving bits of chocolate
longing for cream to drip over and slip
sip
and meander into a world
of smiles and sighs

This is how I describe
me