she was as cold as the winter full of frost and bites on her delicate skin always wearing a scarf bearing cold colors but she is as intelligent as the raven and her potential is to not be underestimated he was bright as the summer a ray of sunshine that his heart has captured his eyes as warm as the trees and the earthy soil a goofy smile and a cheesy laugh he can hold but they both wondered to themselves from a distance of a single season that separates and puts them apart ‘what is love with its warmth and frost’ through the frights and scares and the hope of light at the end of a roller coaster ride to the seemingly never-ending valley of lilies and through the glaciers of darkness that’s what love holds for us it is heaven or hell or whatever it is a paradise worth finding or a purgatory waiting in chains it is a letter full of something or maybe even nothing at all chocolates and daisies? forget about it the season that separates the wondering opposites it is the fall of the two for the other it could be the literal fall or the ‘falling head over heels’ kind of fall love does not matter on your gender nor does it matter not on your preference it just matters that you have someone to count on or maybe even a shoulder to cry on it is like the aroma of a coffee bean the scent so attracting yet when tasted you may or may not decline it it is also like the essence of vanilla sweet and innocent but will be missed when it is gone love is like when you’re the toothpick seemingly strong and firm at first but with a snap you can easily fall to the merciless ground it is sentimentality a chemical defect found on the losing side for not throughout this journey will you always find peace among the storms it is the range of numbers from zero to ten for the happiness, as all emotions do may fade away due to the negativity it is the whisper of students among corridors soft but can easily be caught full of gossip or full of truth but I could choose to believe neither because that four-lettered word made people less of what they once were love, it can break you yet, with such irony it could mend you and it would be the person who destroyed it who would come back to make you feel whole again no more holding hands in the hallyways or even deserted places that seems to be ‘romantic’ for these are just creepers and things could flip upside down with just a snap all those things they say about love not all of them could happen from written words of our imaginations to the writing of it onto parchment with our pens it is what we wish to happen for this world could ever be so harsh to the bad but especially to the good that we find another way to escape from it and so summer and winter never met never did they cross their boundaries for the cycle of the seasons is like love there would be battles won in the frost a dose of happiness in the spring among birds the moodiness of both in the hot summer and the transition and neutrality that autumn gives for even love must be known to have its routine.