Perhaps this is just me being too metaphorical again when
i say, it’s strangely fitting
that as summer’s thick air gave way to
the slow set-in of Fall season, I was
falling too.


Or maybe I am only acknowledging now.
Because, you see, day to day
Summer looks the same.
Sometimes it rains or the
temperature fluctuates,
but unlike the other seasons,
new buds don’t bloom
Leaves are the same verdant hue every day
the trees don’t go barren.
Summer is redundant.
But in redundancy there is
simplicity and
predictability
from which I pry comfort
and happiness.
The same way I found comfort in the
predictability
that each humid day would be spent with you.
And we continued like summer, nothing changing,
but enjoying the
simplicity and
predictability.
Because everyone knows,
after summer there is always a
Fall.


And Fall has this way of
sneaking
right up under you.
The temperature will drop a couple of degrees
every day.
The air gradually grows brisk more and more
brisk.
And it’s not really noticeable.
Until the morning when I walk outside and decide
Wow it is really chilly-- I might need
a coat.
And I finally see
and feel
that Fall is here.
Although I admitted I wanted
a coat,
that it would be in my best interest,
I didn’t yet
need it.


I denied a true desire, pushed it to
the side,
forced the thought out of my head,
because giving in to the
warmth of
a coat
would mean that this Fall was all too real-
When what I really miss is the summer,
the sunny days,
the predictability
the simplicity
of us.


But of course as this Fall progresses
the wind’s teeth grow sharper
and the air is biting and more
biting.
My denial for a coat becomes more irrational,
no longer do I want
a coat--
it is a need
a craving, the same raw craving i have for
you.


And now here we are at Autumn’s close,
the air is growing frigid and more
frigid
and I can’t fathom going a day or even
part of a day without
a coat.
Dear, you
are
my coat. And I swim in my regret for
denying avidity
for so long.
I guess I just didn’t want
this Fall to start because
where there is a start there is an
end. And trailing
the heels of Autumn’s cusp,
is winter’s dreadful near.
So daunting is December’s bareness,
how Trees in the winter are experts at letting
things go.
I don’t want to have to
learn from the trees, please--
Don’t make me write about
Winter.

Five months ago
I gave you a rose
pale in pink, rich in pretty
you touched my face, thanked me kindly
stood the Rose proud beside your bed
to watch the dreams pour from your head
  
But pretty does fade...
color does drain...
and five months later
the Rose stands the same place
  
You loved it fully while
it was alive
You loved it like you did not know
it was soon to die
And when it did-- you did not
bat an eye
only loved what was left like it had
never died.

Standing before
the whispering ocean
adorned in frosted saltwater sapphire
she wears ever-present like his gaze
hot around her neck
Her face holds no flaw;
icy  features forever frozen
into a frigid upside down grin
by the hand of a man
with a dream
snowflakes gather in heaps
falling in lazy cascade from her lashes
every time the Ice Queen blinks

He scorches
in blinding zeal to vent jealous wrath
Destruction is his only goal
with orange flicks of flailing arms
his chosen human victims he consoles
flaunting his demonic charm
Fire restless fire roaring higher
spews his wall of flame
But the thing about fire
is one often is burned  trying to put it out.
Oh, ferocious fire, try as I may
your scintillating sin knows no tame.

Let it be widely known
a front of chill colliding with one of warm
creates
the perfect storm.

A burning Desire roars deep
within, an existing scarlet desire that
i will not feed, drip drop
drip
but always she exists
  
golden-maned lion, velvet-pawed lion
I know your hunger gnaws, and
I hear your hunger gnaws, no- I  
feel your hunger gnaws
dispatched to my direction
  
I think
You think that I cannot hear you
I think  
you think that I do fear you
But do you know
to whom you speak? These weathered hands
have gripped Tragedy
by its neck and dropped it on its head
You tug at my sleeve with eyes fixed
potent in plea for a satisfaction begging
for a satisfaction that
grant it I won't
  
Golden-maned lion
I will starve you til every rib shows.

You're asleep and I'm sad
i wanted to stay up all night
and talk with you about
your day and why the sky is blue

everything is so easy with us,
our words flow back and forth steadily,
like the gliding of a ship
atop a calm sea

when i feel broken
you mend me with your words
when i have nothing to say,
you effortlessly occupy the silence

you fill this gap inside me
in a way that makes me forget
i was ever incomplete

i'd tell you all of this,
but you're asleep.