It was colder weather, when I left
Still winter in the bottom drawer
Photographs and birthday cards--
  humming hard, December streetlights
  still laughing at chilly footsteps
             one-two
             one-two
          No three-four

Now wake up August heat undressed
Yeah, wake up next to skeletons
   who "think that we should just be friends."
And--anyway--the bedroom's small
   barely bigger than a closet

Fall asleep in sheets of sweat
claw for the ceiling
          dreaming heavy
Awake. Wet pillow.
     Tousled hair at 4 a.m.
And, for my part, the ceiling clawmarks
soak my dreams up, snow in sheet rock
      spells your name
(I should prob'ly wash my sheets)

Though I'm often ****** on beer,
When Autumn comes, I clearly hear, through crisping air,
   their wilting voices hailing
          while I try to soothe the
          drowsy year

But it's still cold and I'm still here
though "here" has moved
and every year is heating
so, I repeat, repeat, repeat

"What starts September
   dies November
February ******* hurts
  the same way as July."

The bottom drawer's still cased in winter
Skeletons still claw the doors
I sweat. I shiver.
**** I miss you...
Hope you're living. Me? I'm aging
Faster than I was before.