Children of Persephone are the changing temperature of a new season.

They're your mother's pearl necklace and the septum piercing you got with your best friend.

They're flowers that haven't bloomed, and colored leaves falling off trees.

They're a bite taken out of an apple.

They're ancient gravestones with a garden growing overtop.

They're the letter of the law spelled out in fine print.

They're drinking boxed red wine out of crystal glasses.

They're watching the grass grow and loving every minute.

Love from a child of Persephone is irrefutable, and malleable, and unbelievably demanding.