Pumpkins and Wishes ( adding to collections)

The air turns crisp, the leaves turn fire,
but it’s your touch that would stir my desire.
I crave your hand, your kiss, your grin,
to melt the cold and pull me in.

We'd wander through pumpkins, scarves in tow,
I'd trip in the leaves (you'd pretend not to know). The cider is warm, but not like you,
no drink can burn the way you do.

The season whispers, fierce and true,
every falling leaf pulls me back to you.
Though distance keeps your warmth from me,
my body still knows where it longs to be.

-BB