If it was the cool beginnings of winter that made his kisses visible in the dark night air,
she wondered why,
all flushed cheeks under the shelter of a bus stop in the middle of nowhere –
why summer was so often written as the time for lovers.
skin prickling, bubbling, upwards,
silence only breaking in the rustling of jackets and tongues warm beyond cold lips
…surely this was the season for lovers.