Spring was stealing surreptitious glances at AG.
Sitting two rows over, three seats up.
It was the galloping palpitations of my heart
whenever I walked passed his desk,
and the silly grin that blossomed on my face
every time we talked.
Spring was the fresh giddiness of falling for AG.

Summer was the wild days and serene nights spent with AG
It was the exhilaration of exploring uncharted routes,
with nothing but coins in our pockets,
adventure in our hearts,
and affection in our eyes.
It was my soul singing sweet felicity at the park,
where we watched enigmatic night steal ethereal dusk.
Summer was the calming certainty of falling madly in love with AG.

Autumn was my flooded embrace to AG
when we said our final goodbyes.
It was the bitterness on my tongue
when I watched desolate leaves gently detach from their branches.
It was the new vision I was forced to develop,
just to see the colors on the ground again.
Autumn harvested new relationships, apart from AG.

Winter was the spasmodic yearnings for AG
that  would tackle me from the blue.
It was the delicate flurries that accompanied my solitary walks,
and it was the eventual blanket of snow
that covered the grounds in pure and clean whiteness.
Winter was the chilling reality of falling out of love with AG.


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