As sure as Spring softens the soil.
Walking into a warmer night that the one before,
with a cool breeze that I don’t raise my collar to.
Let it kiss my pale winter skin,
like moonlight does new leaves, and they glow.
The scent of lilac.
The sound of trees.
My heart softens in tune to the season,
and some tears, like the rain, bring blooms.
Spring evenings whisper the promise of Summer nights.
The promise of wistful sighs, and the sweet longing for a lovers embrace,
a hand to hold, another pair of footsteps to walk beside.
Warm skin to graze against, silently, like lightning in the distance,
similarly charged.
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