We should pick a favorite season to stroll in,
And then walk it. Take it in at full tilt.
Right, like, really feel the weather we love
And let it embrace us, as our eyes hug it back.
Our skin can soak in the temperature,
Whether it be mild or tragic.
I had gone to Jade’s house the other day.
Her dog went batshit. It bit me in the leg
And although the pain was sharp, I played numb.
There will be a scar where those tiny teeth poked
Through the skin of my calf. For our favorite season,
Maybe it can be something bright, and I can show off the bite mark.
It will still be up in the air though, that weather: mild or tragic.