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Seasons
For the first time, seasons feel like they deserve their name.
Summer smells vibrant, clean yet pungent. there is a heaviness in the air, sweat drying tacky on skin and nights spent tossing and turning until the fabrics fly off the mattress, only to be picked up the morning after. the bed rarely gets made these days and the folds, twists and wrinkles of the dark cotton sheets leave little to the imagination as to what must've happened there mere hours earlier. marks on skin hard conceal with no choice but to go bare on days the sun is most unforgiving.
Fall brings with it the relaxing patter of rain hitting roofs, cats scurrying under cars when night falls while the white plastic valve of the radiator gets turned to on for the first time in what feels like half a life time. steam collects as condensation, rolling down the cool glass windows as the soup bubbles away on the stove top. rust coloured leaves become the slippery enemy of all beings hurrying down the side walks, were it not for a supporting hand hovering and steady footfalls setting a reassuring pace.
Winter makes a home in the bones, slowing the pace of day and lingering in the corners of the room. fuzzy socks adorn icicile feet, warm mugs filled with steaming liquid always in reach. the humming of the heater is constant, reminiscent of the buzzing of bees. longing for warmer times becomes a given and comforting words wrap around like a scarf woven from silk. touches easily given, returned ten fold. solace found in the familiar.
Spring makes it look so easy. speaking without ever saying anything. a resurrection of feelings laid temporarily dormant, blooming into energy running free under skin. laughter comes quicker, stays longer. where love slept peacefully, now a fresh and nearly overwhelming wave of infatuation takes hold of every waking hour. intimacy on display for all the waking spirits to see. there it is again, that feeling in the air. shorter shadows promising longer days. can you smell it yet?
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