I settle for your declination of devotion in the fall
because I remember all of your sweet summer promises.
The same promises you'd whisper in my ear after a
lackadaisical day spent between the love-stained cotton sheets.  
Maybe it's the promises you'd imprint on my skin
through the twists and turns of your docile fingers;
seemingly writing every pinky swear in fluent body language.
I can't forget the promises you'd feed me during our candlelit dinners in the city;
the ones that curbed my heart's appetite for the duration of a 3-course meal.
But the promises I remember most are the same ones
that have my soul avoiding slumber during these sinful hours.
The promises of this time being everything our past was not;
the promises you swore you'd keep.
All of those broken summer promises that you promised me.