(the festival.)

our day was filled with blue sky, thoughts of september and the feelings of pure summer. fingertips dusted in sugar was august's last kiss. faded yellow and red surrounded us in crowds of people and of the festial in and of itself, a keepsake in our minds for approaching days of crackled leaves and cold winds.

clouds framed it all, and the loud music and bustle was only a side note, simply unimportant when there's cotton candy and an occasional breeze.

then the day comes to a close and our fingertips remember it all.