our autumn fizzles                                               we're losing our mind
away into the winter                                            but in the sharp night
and the beckoning mirage                                   there it stands;
it begins to splinter                                               the subtle light

"the freeway from here, can you hear it?"
              
                                                 ­             "...it sounds like an artificial river."

“what’s your favourite shape?”
                            
                               “I don’t know, what’s the shape
                                               of you?”

why does the past feel warm?

                         could it be an illusion of

my room temperature mind?

mornings spent in muted hues; we are
yearning for an elusive past day

do the
orange of your new sunrises run as pretty as the
dear sunsets you saw by accident?
entwined in a single moment - the long
calls that bleed into ‘am’ time,
all of it; it all was seamless - we were
hearts beating as one.
every moment we had was a
deserted emotion -
ringing through. And sometimes I am
out feeling alone - but perhaps in the
night - we are together.

the thought of other dimensions makes me
covered in blue for a second
paints me in slow motion
i can run; but they will run faster
they will know what i never did
we will both clash in the ways we are wiser
the one who stayed and the one who left