Seasons
It was September
and the weather was as crisp
as the pages of friendship we would share together
It was then April
and I took comfort in our connection
as if you were an umbrella shielding me from momentum
It fell into Summer
and your thoughts and touch felt like a hot breeze I wanted to destroy
Winter came
and I tried to take comfort in your name, but realized a memory wasn’t the same
-Fatima Jeylani
