I sat beneath you,
when your colors were fading,
in the dusty autumn
of thoughts and songs
you burried in the sand.

Furry, amber tracks of absent vines,
outlining the spine I had only dreamt of
Cowardice and missing chlorophyl,
I hoped to dizzy myself,
chasing the rings of your voice

I friviouslessly kissed the wrinkles
that gathered around your eyes
like ridges do that of a tree's bark.
I caught falling leaves
and told myself the spring
would soon return
whilst you rotted from the inside-out.