It felt like September when we fell in love.
When we rode around in my car with the windows down,
the air seemed to take on a feeling close to chilled water soothing a burning throat.
It felt almost like the way you’d breathe warm air onto my bare neck when I told you not to.
There was no smell of barbeques to distract us, only a smell that reminded me of clean laundry and the way I liked to cuddle closer into your chest when it was cold outside the covers.

And when October comes we won’t be in love.
Scary things will pop out in front of my car,
and you know I can’t drive under pressure and you don’t have your license.
My friends will give me candy that won't taste as good as a stranger’s.
Horror movie reruns will keep me awake; and when I’ll be thinking happy thoughts, I’ll be wishing you were there so I could cuddle closer, breathe love instead of
oxygen.

I say we steal all the calendars.