You had winter flowing in your veins, the shuddering cold a familiar friend. Never once you tasted summer. So when her fingers touched yours, suddenly spring was blooming and you've never seen so many cherry blossoms in your life. You wonder if this is what summer tasted like, if ever a season could be tasted. She was warm and bright, like summer's heat, refreshing but undoubtedly unfamiliar. She left, leaving autumn in her wake. And you're back into the familiar cold winter but it's not the same anymore. Fleeting seasons but permanent memories.