Someday.
A crisp fall night,
Evident by the gentle breeze,
The calming trees,
And the changing leaves,
Your chair slightly overlapping mine,
We look at each other,
Our subtle embrace grows slightly stronger at the dwindling fire,
as we try to make up for the heat that we are losing,
Your skin is ripe and mine is bruising,
From the pain of letting go,
I knew you wouldn't see the fall,
You were a somber metaphor of the dying fire,
Reaching for something more,
Something to keep you going,
But there was nothing,
The physical attachments of this world seem not to matter as much when the pain is so great,
Sometimes the best thing you can do is let go,
They always said if you love something let it go,
But how can I let you go,
When it is fall,
And my bed is cold.