words from the right page are penned from the short story el confessor in a volume of catch.scanned from my moleskine, this is what i look forward to every year. i've probably said it countless times before, but where i come from [texas], it's mostly spring and summer. i love it when the clouds veil the sun and the air smells of ozone, and when the winds argue and pull the trees back and forth, and when the leaves pull away from trees with the snap of a fresh picked apple, and when thor makes the thunder [i've seen the avengers too many times] and the clouds start to cry. i would comfort their tears, but i like them. i like being cold and pulling my sweater around my front. i like covering my head with newspapers and old notebooks to keep me from getting soaked and thus getting a cold. i like hot drinks that make my nose tingle and the smell of gingerbread that says winter is almost here [yay Christmas!]. i like it all.
so welcome home, autumn. you've been missed.
-kiss kiss kiss, and ignite your bones-