I'm cold

It gets cold this time of year, when the sun goes down and the days are short. And I find myself wishing for warmer days, those days that will come with the dawning of the next Summer. And that Summer will be the Summer of 26 - 26 going on 27 - and while there are no two Summer-times in one age, each takes with it a little of our youth and tacks on a bit of our aging self. So I'll sit here and stay up late, wishing and groaning for some sunned chlorine to bathe in, while I chatter my teeth until they grate down to nubs, and I'll rub my arms and hands rapidly for comfort.

I want to shower and smell that stark bleach on my skin, the stench of summerly love and newly created memories, the flowering sunlight that nurtures us like milk from our mothers. I want to wade in oceans and watch my skin darken in shade from pale to burgundy in one afternoon. I think it best to swim, be it in water or humidity, and to hope for just one day, longer than the last.

But the seasons belong. As does the rain and all it brings in its cycle of water and life. For these reasons do I love the water and its reservoirs: the salted seas, the swimming pools, the rain and the snow, the lakes, the baths, the tributaries, and the river - of course the river. I will fashion my love for Autumn as it transitions all too quickly into Winter. I'll bask in the snow like a fallen angel awaiting my true love. And this I'll do as I know...

That glare belongs in my eyes.