For her there was no season so soft as autumn.
As if the light covered her in this soft hue. She would become so fragile.
And despite this breathtaking elegance she would radiate a clear sense of impervious strength.
Like a wildflower. Her beauty residing in her flaws
Tanlines disappearing, the sky gradually painting more dark and the air getting more cold
Rosy cheeks, light leaks, shadow plays
Soaking in the last of the sun's rays
Summer would soon be a souvenir
Subtly fading away
Into a peachy, poetic, pastel dream
Proving endings can in fact be beautiful
Yes, for her, there was no sun so soft as in autumn