ninety three million miles

you remind me of december

a silence that resembles

the calmest shade of winter

a quiet quarter after six

followed by a fierce,

scarlet red glow

through withered cedar branches,

my heart will paint it again and again

stenciling the most whimsical picture

where frozen rain pauses,

taking a deep breath

to compliment the silhouette

of my hand,

entangled in yours

then you remind me of spring

eight minutes point nineteen,

what i imagined love would mean

fragile delicacies

that bruise to the touch

vibrant violets,

before sunset

i lost you in june

two months ninety years too soon

july resembled a saltwater wave,

a persistent tide that pulled me away

once maple leaves fell,

and autumn became grey

you assumed i was paragraphs long gone,

then december tapped my shoulder

told me to sit down,

and write you a love song