13 August 2015

august.



we were talking about months of the year, months we could each get by without.

january. march. august. something like that.

august.

not me. august is the great in-between. one step back and you fall into summer. one step ahead and you tumble into fall.

fall, my beloved season. all sweaters and corduroy, buttons and plaid. smell of leather shoes and burning wood. when love begins and leaves fall like music.

but not just yet. wait. soon. soon enough. i'll never wish the days to pass. they do that all on their own.

so, august. summer's coda, the subtle flutter of curtains, the first crisp nights. and yet. there's still time for peaches and white tank tops, row boats and swings.

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