The Story of August

August.

I remember it was a Thursday.

It rained for a while, but we made the best out of it.

You made me truly laugh, which hadn’t happened in a while.

You woke me up, this sleepy, lost, little life that until you, meant,

Nothing.

I liked when you held my hand.

We were sitting in the car waiting for the rain to pass,

You were singing along to the radio and latched my fingers in yours.

Even though you let go to quick then, I liked August, it brought me you.

Ice-cream.

Somehow it tasted sweeter.

Might taste just as sweet when you buy it for me now,

But August is still the best month for ice-cream and movies,

Holding hands, and a late night first kiss. New love is best fresh in,

August.