The summer is
the burning love of yours.
When autumn comes
the bedding gets a fix.
Is winter when
you’re freezing me with your gaze.
Forgetfulness appear to be
the coldest season felt from you…
And yet, more intimate and
more involved it is the season
when we meet in dainty fancy
of the poetry… — how does it feel…
as you can see, you’re unpredictability
©ᵏᴼᵏᴼ ↭ un p’tit je ne sais quoi