To try and push back the autumn air is no goal of mine. Summer air always is thick with revelry and a madness that sticks to the sweat; now that the days are cooling and the wind swirls through crackling leaves, a haze of familiarity and passion bathes in a cool river of melancholy that aims to calm the burgeoning senses that run through a young body and mind. Again, this becoming sense of romantic intrigue covers my thoughts over with warmth and delight. I wrestle with my romance though, fiddling with delicate fingers and tinkering with my own predictions for tomorrow. Nevertheless, I still smile knowing that my head will lay on fair shoulders soon again. Down the town streets I'm found, watching the clouds as I consciously catch the feeling of my feet hitting the pavement.
She holds open the door,
both walk up past the convenience store
minding the four swaying hands
feeding off of passion's demands.
Town street lights
glowing fuzz of those nights
now with a body pressed against hips
ever nearing desire and gentle lips.
Hear comes youth swelling
conscious taking all thoughts, buying and selling.
Leaving with a touch and fulfilled sentiment,
time has been youthfully spent
under the glory of dark clouds
and without cover of charcoal shrouds.
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