I. summer.
sunlight bleeding through open windows, golden light bathing warm and honeyed skin, shadows falling behind as you turn your face to the sun, cigarette smoke joining the night breeze.
the hint of a smile, the dance of your life, the electricity when my fingertips meet your skin.
II. fall.
the trees’ laughter joining the rhythm of our movements. the golds & reds coloring the leaves, socked feet dancing on tip-toes, the comfort of your wool sweater, the chilly air seeping through the warmth of our cocoon. cold evenings, warm hugs, warmer smiles. the ghost of your lips lingering after they touch mine.
III. winter.
dove grey skies. fallen petals, naked trees, bare as we were the night before. ice crackling underfoot in each step we make, the steady and careful waltz on frozen lakes. branches hanging low with the heavy weight of snow. misty streetlights lighting our path as we walk home drunk on tequila and laughter and the memory of our friends. words spooling from your mouth as you fill the quiet gaps in between. the freckles on your back under the moonlight, a constellation i memorize. the cold, empty air when you leave for the night.
IV. us.
tangled limbs. pink lemonade on countertops, fresh slices of fruits on open palms, every color and every taste reminding me of you. breathy whispers after taking a bow, when the image of you takes center stage as we let our movements go in sync. your words carved into my skin. the soft folds of our flesh melting into one.
V. you.
the silence that follows when you say you’re returning back home for good, your hand engaged in marriage and family and duty. every rock i try to overturn, but nothing will do. the twist & tangle of my limbs, and this time it’s not from dancing. you and I — now a phantom in the spaces we used to fill. pins & needles filling my heart, clutching on to the harmony of what we used to be.
