she is autumn in a girl, russet hair and golden freckles.
she tastes like the crispness of a freshly harvested apple,
and she feels like the warm mellow sun of a fall day.
her warmth could heat the coldest white of marble,
her laugh could soften his frostbitten heart.
walled in by a castle of books,
a fabricated protection against the softening influence of love.
but her sunshine was the warmest thing he’d ever felt,
and his wall tumbled down before her shine.