The Reflection On Seasons In the Supposition of Snow.

I stared at walls and contemplated colors~ I believe it was after midnight~ he spoke of nothing as I imagined the importance behind us, as I imagined the breeze that was affected by his voice, as I realized nothing intrigued me... and here we were. His arms spoke of goosebumps, little shivers up my spine, and September had this way about her that I wished to somehow capture in mason jars that would decorate the rooms we may sit in come snow, I knew the reflection of fire across skin and I kissed possibilities as I watched our seasons... change. There's no stopping distance despite the desire to break clocks, minutes and miles are irreversible, I've found, so I counted them, the hours, and made sure he was touchable and only an arms length away... My August arms brushed across his chest, he had the ability to calm though summer still danced through his heart, my fingertips traced over the forgotten eyelashes that desperately tried to escape sight and I breathed, sending wishes to the walls that surrounded us, to the edges that had yet to decide their color, that touched nothing... yet captivated my attention. There were shadows that covered us~ I think they appeared right beyond midnight~ but I knew we were swallowing September, I supposed we'd create minutes that would make us smile come snow and we'd kiss in the reflection of fire... escaping distance with the whispers that affected skin.