𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 ᵖᵒᵉᵗʳʸ

seasons

the mellow afternoon

dripping

with sticky honey

frozen in time

like a sunset's

last words.

we lie

in the tickling grass

holding hands

but wishing

we were more.

like how winter

yearns for sunshine

just as summer longs for snow.