all she did was
reach for a glass
and
my eyes became like pens
drawing my love
with every stretch of
her legs
building up until i
felt like the snap between
the stem and the apple
twisted a little and
so completely consumed

I should write you November,
and I swear I tried, but our lives
aren't fair, and this time love isn't sweet.
The leaves have stopped their tumbling dives
through infinity. The wind won't remember
a time when I moved sound so complete
that it shattered time. (When you first became mine.)
I knew it was stupid as soon as I uttered that line.
I swear I tried to write you November,
But my words can't compete
with these Autumn lovers,
and these passionate crimes...