I always think of you when the first breath of summer flows across my face; a stolen kiss far from prying eyes.
You stood next to the well, ebony hair shimmering with the colors of the setting sun. You blushed and fidgeted, at last finding the courage to place a light kiss across my lips.
"For luck," you said.
"For luck," I said.
You were gone with the breeze, and left me with only a memory of your warm, sweet taste, a promise of luck, and a desire for more. More of what I could not have, more of your forbidden touch.
Long I wandered, taking notice of nothing but seasons, looking forward to only one. Months ticked into years, years ticked into centuries - centuries of wandering and searching for a hint of our shared moment.
I found you, finally. By accident, really.
By luck.
Alone in the park bench, enjoying the summer sun and munching on sweets, watching the children play. The summer wind bringing your scent to me once more.
I walk up to you, and kiss your lips once again - sweet and soft against mine, our hair mingling in the breeze.
"For love," I say.
"For love," you say.
I lean in to kiss you again. I won't leave you to luck anymore.