The smooth hot breath
of summer dances on her skin
A warm metallic fragrance
soaked into her tongue
as electricity pulsed
in the lingering humidity
Rolling embers illuminated
the midnight sky
The still darkness
hummed and sparked
Suffocating the timid
roars of thunder

As the leaves crunch beneath my feet,
and the trees weep their now yellow leaves.
I'm filled with glee as I feel the cold breeze,
don't let Fall end, please.
Because the weather is nice,
and our house will be warm.
The chimney will smoke,
as the fire is born.
We'll be surrounded by friends,
and our family will swarm.

But you'll hear the pleas,
for the weather to be warm.
It'll come from the families whose clothes are torn.
So if it'll stop them from freezing,
stop the children from wheezing,
I guess you can stop
the cold Fall's breezing...

The sky is blue
the wind blows cold
i sit and rock
with you, grow old

It’s the 4th of July
and I ride with Summer
to Coney Island to watch the fireworks.
But she’s the only firework I want to watch.
The only one that excites me.
Her kisses are a flame
burning my flesh
a crimson passion that makes us sweat
with all our hot ***.

August is here
and Summer’s touch is warm air
brushing against my skin
saying she loves me
I can feel her presence every morning
when she is about to wake me up
to go out with her.
Let it be wet and warm in the water
our footprints leaving trails in the sand
Dancing on the floor
like there’s nothing and no one around us,
but us.

I can do this with her forever,
but it’s now September.
I know Summer has to leave,
but I want her to stay.
I love her.

I look at her eyes
as they shine at me like the sun
A light that makes me smile
brightening my world.
She’s gorgeous.
I know she’ll be back
and I’ll be waiting;
just as we both have
year after year.

Leaves are falling in October
And I’ve terribly missed
Her.
I look up at the sky
to see clouds spread apart
and the sun shinning down at me.
A warm breeze brushes against my skin.

I love you,
Summer.

-The reign of winter

Hot summer is all but gone and decemember draws near,

May my soul endure the coming chills of winter this year.

In theory, the sky is falling,

Showering particles of merry madness and homespun delirium,

As we sleep in the formerly sealed
containers that kept us fresh,

But now leave us active:

Radioactive.

Actually though, this is more a soulless, weather modified masquerade,

Where we dance at funerals, drink to cloud seeding,

And play 'Guess Who?' retributions,

While locked in the closet with flight attendants left for kindling...