I find myself waiting for a person,

dreaming of an accidental encounter 

that would change everything.

Long days turn into mild nights 

and I begin to realize that maybe

I have been waiting for the wrong thing. 

The dense August air melts away

replaced by Septemer's brisk breeze, 

and soon the leaves start to blush, 

they start to burn. 

All this time I have been waiting, 

unaware that a person is not what I need.

Septembers and Octobers wrap me up

like no one's arms could, 

the cold air gently kisses my lips, 

leaving me breathless.

The rain pattered nights lull me to sleep, 

and I am in love.