Your lips were stained The same shade as dandelions, And I was caught up In the promise of a short winter, Where my wishes could be heard Beyond the veil of stars, Carried on those white seeds That feel lighter than air.   A single taste was all it took To reveal the obvious; The … Continue reading If we were made out of the sky, I’d be the chilling wind, you’d be the Summer heat, and together we’ll form pockets of clouds, blocking out the Sun, throwing barrels of thunder and lightning over the edge of the world without a care.