we-are-pilots

I met a boy. He kissed my toes. He made me feel wanted. Tangled up beneath the sheets, I breathed his scent. It smelled like winter. I held his hand. I wanted to tell him how he looked just like the cloudy sky. He said I was being silly. His raven hair, Spiked by the wind, And his pink cheeks on pale skin. He told me he loved me, his little Autumn. He held me in his brittle arms. Spice-colored skin against snow. I was autumn. Forever to lose what beauty and love she has, With the arrival of winter's chill. He was winter, Cold, shivers down my spine. And he glowed in the moonlight. Winter melts, But if only for me, autum