Halloween doesn't know
that you beat it to the punch line
years ago.

Your jack-o-lantern eyes
glow bright yellow in the spiral staircases
twisting through the coils of my brain.

I never believed in witchcraft
until you spun cobwebs
into your breath
and filled my lungs with spiders.

You are rust brown leaves,
dancing in the rain
with the crescent moon
clothing your skin.

I am rust brown leaves,
suffocating in the fall air
with the crescent moon
blinding my brain.