Poem Version:
All seasons
All colors
All sights for eyes to see
All sounds
And all smells too
All for a heart to melt over
All to see your face
Oh Summer
My cousin has come to me falling
Now I wish it wasn’t me
Wasn’t my turn
You know me all too well
I numb your lips
And I numb your toes
I’m there when you see the sun,
But there are no more warm rays
I’m there when the wind brushes over
I’m there when a laugh is seen cold
You know me
I know Summer
He knows me
My opponent which I have fallen in love with
The love I melt in the presence of
My opponent with heated strokes
The love I can’t touch
You know me
I’m coming soon
Turn around,
Too late,
I’m here
Story Version:
There is no such thing as an infinitesimal difference between him and me. Our infinite lifespans apart and, at the same time, together. Not a single primal day found in our births. No, not one person could question our primacy to this earth’s life. One job is laid out for me as I live, and I am no novice to my innovative works of art. All of my labor becomes beautiful, then my opponent crushes it all under his work of the sun’s rays. Just to be opposites since primeval ages, and this act to always be an ultimate stab to my frosted heart by such a lover as he. My heart cracks under the knowledge of my ending days. This being nothing novel, I should have already drowned in my own ice-like teardrops. Only one thing keeps my heart in cheer; Summer will get his spotlight. Most humans love him and despise my presence. For the sight of me declares the ending of growth, of crops, and of heat. Summer, I beg you, take me away with your heated strokes along my cheek. Show me love with the idea of a touch of the cooling seas. Love me from where you are just as I have loved you from the beautiful chilled heart of mine. I am what drives the cold throughout the nights. I am the one they call Winter.
Photo by Ivan Lemekhov on Unsplash
