Stagnated

The mosquitoes have brought the epidemic back to my city. The lizards are waking from hibernation. The first petunias are peaking.

The moisture from last night's rain has permeated my arid, wintry skin.

Everyone is flourishing about over university acceptances and plans to secure the future but I'm becoming stagnant this spring.

Slowed down by every blooming flower. More indolent by every ripening sickly-sweet fruit.

And ceaselessly drowning in endless desire for you.

You are my spring.