Our meeting in July was fitting,
My heart sizzled in your filtered gaze.
The dimming of August only made me fall deeper, like the pink summer sun setting goodbye, while my young, naive mind welcomed such overwhelming, engulfing insanity.
The crisp September air allowed my throbbing, charred heart to cool, but the delicious burns still stung, still irresistible.
My conquered heart fell deeper and deeper into your Chasm of Comfort each time a matured October leaf swept down into her Crevice of Cozy hibernation. Will she awake in Spring?
I could heat the entire November city with a single sudden pulse of sweat you cause every time my name is on your tongue.
Sometimes malevolent.
Sometimes benevolent.
Blistering winds come our way,
Snow falls on the tips of our noses,
Warmed by Eskimo kisses,
December only seems to please us.
I want every coming month to be defined by you and your Entrancing, Empyrean presence.
I want to sleep forever in your Chasm of Comfort.
So hold me.
I must never wake.