The trees are
quietly
changing
with the
turn table's slow
rotation
and
Autumn's tapping
on the window
sill again
"let me in, my
dear.
Forget about the summer
sun who wilt your
pretty petals..."

as the morning chill
is taking
over and
I wake consumed by
my grand
duvet,
I know each day
is further now
from you.

I don't want to be in love anymore.