poetry, — how does it feel...

about the seven seasons are in you
and each of them is filled
with feelings and their thrills
thereby, —
in spring, you're a zephyr…
(first glance, first kiss, first ecstasy)
the summer is
the burning love of yours
when autumn comes
the bedding gets a fix
it's winter when
you're freezing me with your gaze
amnesia appears to be from you...,
the coldest season felt
and yet, more intimate and
more involved, it is the season
when we meet in dainty fancy
of a poetry, —  how does it feel...
(…as you can see, —
you're unpredictability)

poetic audience

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