This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Chapel Hill chapter.
Deep red hair that scatters with the autumn leaves
is trapped in steel, filling sinks with leaves the color of tears.
Patchy gray hands dusty with the residue of library books,
that you put into pages, treating each student special.
I will steal you from her.
I will kiss your deep red hair, turning it into summer.
I will clean your hands, making them clear.
Out of all my options, I pick you
to come into my home to feast upon melons
as I like the juice from your lips.
Stay with me here for every season
until the world turns into stardew.
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