Your smile in the summer.

You hold my left hand,
Across the pink weeds,
I run my right hand,
Through each one in the breeze,
The grass brushing across my knees.
In all of vast I see,
You were too much for me.
I followed you anyway through,
Each season.
I only see your smile in the summer,
Before the sunlight blinds me,
And you leave for the South.
Following you,
You look back at me,
Leading me,
Between green, and,
Yellow and brown plateaus,
Where the blues meet.
Your fingers wrap gently,
Around my wrist,
Your palm, now,
Holding my palm and fingers in place.
Your musk,
Drifting back to me, I breathe you in,
Air brushing each of our bare limbs.
Following you,
You look back again.

Romanced by the South.