Mar 2019
Her hands are winter.
Frosted fingers interlaced above frozen windowsills staring out into the great unknown and that big blank canvas of snow that is our future, us, we.
Her eyes are spring.
Bright blue alight with life and happiness and rebirth, a freckle on the side like a cloud in the clear blue sky, like the first blossoms on the branches of the weeping cherry trees, arms stretching into forever and ever, amen.
Her laugh is summer.
The peals of schoolbells rung for the last time, the joy of escape and endless sunshine and golden days filled with potential, rolling through hills that continue on and on, never ending like the constant whispers of “I love you most.”
Her body is autumn.
Beautiful like the palette of gold, orange, and red leaves and the sunspots shining on the cool ground and the crisp scent of a new season turning itself over into something magical, cooking and baking and cinnamon and wondering when exactly our tomorrow will begin.
She is a nature girl.
The seasons spread over her body like tattoos, the warmth of the sun is enclosed in her soul and sometimes she protects herself with the ice of winter but when you learn to peel back the snow’s frosty bite you discover you have stepped out into the crisp autumn air and once again she is here, the sun of her love warming your back and your upturned face looking into hers although it’s bright but you don’t have to squint because it isn’t harsh but comforting, oh so comforting because she is love and you are love and suddenly once again it’s summer.
Frosted fingers interlaced above frozen windowsills staring out into the great unknown and that big blank canvas of snow that is our future, us, we.
Her eyes are spring.
Bright blue alight with life and happiness and rebirth, a freckle on the side like a cloud in the clear blue sky, like the first blossoms on the branches of the weeping cherry trees, arms stretching into forever and ever, amen.
Her laugh is summer.
The peals of schoolbells rung for the last time, the joy of escape and endless sunshine and golden days filled with potential, rolling through hills that continue on and on, never ending like the constant whispers of “I love you most.”
Her body is autumn.
Beautiful like the palette of gold, orange, and red leaves and the sunspots shining on the cool ground and the crisp scent of a new season turning itself over into something magical, cooking and baking and cinnamon and wondering when exactly our tomorrow will begin.
She is a nature girl.
The seasons spread over her body like tattoos, the warmth of the sun is enclosed in her soul and sometimes she protects herself with the ice of winter but when you learn to peel back the snow’s frosty bite you discover you have stepped out into the crisp autumn air and once again she is here, the sun of her love warming your back and your upturned face looking into hers although it’s bright but you don’t have to squint because it isn’t harsh but comforting, oh so comforting because she is love and you are love and suddenly once again it’s summer.
