Title: exalt the Soul to solemn Thought
Rating: G
Genre: Romangst
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Summary: They are seasonal.
Disclaimer: I don't even have job. I do NOT own these people/characters/internets.
Notes: Title from James Thomson's "The Seasons: Winter"
His mouth is like
Summer
Hot and
Safe and
Bright
Like melting
Like sunburn
Like skinny-dipping
Like sweat
Salty
In a warm breeze
Like heat
(Jack could drown in this, in his taste, he really could, and it almost didn't hurt)
The curve of his spine
Jut of his scapulae
Pale softness of his breadth
Is a barrier like
Autumn
Cooling and
Mercurial and
Dimmer
Like rain
Like deciduousness
Dripping gold and bronze
To escape being crushed
By the snow
(how he turned from him at night, when everything was too close to the surface, and)
Of my eyes like
Winter
Cold and
Wretched and
Dark
Like dead sheep
Like shivering
Like frostbite
Like the wind biting through
Frail skin
To
The trembling insides
Like desolation
(it was alright, it was okay, he was just protecting himself and really, he didn't mind)
His hand is like
Spring
In mine
Warm and
Loving and
Light
Like the thaw
Like drizzle
Like lambs that will
Almost certainly
Live
To see
Summer
(as long as Ianto kept holding his hand in the sunlight)
