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Sienna Luna Jan 2017
Back to rainy poetry on a morning full of possibility.
Back to layers and winter breathing down my neck.
Back to shivers and cold feet in blue flip flops.
Back to the smell of fresh dew on wet grass, gleaming.
Back to scribbling down my feeling. Back to excited heart palpitations.
Back to new romantic relations.
Back to the beginning or maybe it's the end of summer officially past fall's complacency.
Back to hope fluttering like tiny fairies lifting off from my chest.
Their little smiles and pointed ears possessed.

— The End —