As summer fades away, so does our summer love. Brief meetings under starlit skies come less and less. Slowly you're pulling away, like all the others. Crimson clouds show our memories. Laughing on your roof, so loud your parents almost catch us. But we don't care we love the rush. Picnics on a secluded beach, trying not to be seen. I remember your smile, your eyes and your lips. Soft against my face. It's all in the past now. Only good memories and dreams.
February 23, 2012