he whispered in
the space between
the seasons
how is it that no
one sees-
the way she left just
like autumn does
in shattered pieces upon
the leaves.

i responded with my head in the clouds.
you asked me how my day is.
i can't help but giggle at you.
we are eons of history carried in flesh and blood -
stardust crafted into smiles
                  - and the most you can manage is small talk?