Tomorrow never knows
Indian summer has fufilled it's colorful bountyArdent green has transformed its foilage into yellows, oranges and painted
our hearts red. The northern winds have blown our paths into
scented fields of night jasmine that fills my soul drunken in smells
of your breath on mine and spills your kisses up and down my swaying form.
I yearn for the frost bit cold to drive me to your warm abyss of eternal flame
where I can take solace and find the heat that I need to feel alive.l
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