White Knuckles

The cold beautifying the leaves and blowing them to tumble off their branches towards the frosted ground, inverse of white knuckles releasing for the rush of returning blood. Cozy beginnings snuggle up with the pirouette of reds and yellows swirling in and out of their fellow dancers, and how it takes our minds away from the end of sunshine and freedom with a lift of spirits. How it helps the euphoria blind the average eyes while the misery is swapped in to a place they’d taken for granted, and even then, the moment of releasing their fingers and letting the ridges of their knuckles sink back comes naturally. Holding as tight as they can even if the nails break the skin or the bones threaten to snap, until the eternity wraps up in a second and the next arrives instantaneously. Both endings on faces of a coin; beginnings just a prosperous turn away.

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