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priya mistry Oct 2014
I smell you.
whistling in the damp, cool air leaving trinkets of autumn's dying cologne to dance around my senses
I feel you.
wrapping your tender arms around me, transforming from shades of dark maroon to the brightest of yellows
I see you.
slowly spreading throughout the highest of mountains, leaving your traces everywhere you walk
you're entering a new universe, fearing we will forget you you leave your colour stained in our minds before the sun disappears and the snowflakes descend
before our fingers go numb and our hearts play pretend
before the windows get shut, and my skin doesn't touch your air for months
and after you leave, I gaze again into your dust
I miss you, I miss us.
you'll come again I rekindle, I'll await your sweet spice aroma and knitted sweater weather, I'll await him in hope he'll remember.
but it's only october first, and not to get too far ahead
but he's just beginning to weave his falling for me thread.



p.m

— The End —