platonic autumn, I'll never forget it
the waxing cold and waning patience-
the other whom I thought was timely
and exactly mine
escaped his cell in a right way but
turned out to be a criminal, he who
stole my heart and planted his ideology
in, writing little novels recalling the start

he escaped because I let him
and you, you were always there
you were there when he wasn't
warning me against falling for the
notorious figure, the superficial god
letting me speak and listening to my
rambling about my stupidity once
it all became clear, the awful hoax
autumn became winter, when I was
with you most

the clock in your room reads six thirty,
never moving, but of course, time has passed,
and fooled and mesmerised and changed us,
and everything

-c.j.