it's the leaves that smell, sat there
like soggy cornflakes on the pavement.
we kick them up, they stick and stink
and loudly we love the scent, love the magic.
the air is drizzly and the sky is flat like the
soda we have in your rucksack, waiting.
no one else is around, and though the sky is pregnant
the clouds haven't given birth
so we keep the umbrella down, and maybe if we are lucky
we can be like Mary Poppins and fly away together
but no, the wind is lazy today, and our feet ache
but we twist, you scoop me up
my shoes muddy your jacket, you catch my hair in your zip
we fall to the damp ground
and as our breath meets before the kiss, the sky decides to open up
and we become drenched.
but it's okay, because that kiss warms away all the ice
and we sit with the cereal leaves, together, and the smell is nice.