On days like these,
in mid-late fall,
when the weather is nice
and I'm learning to crawl.

I take baby steps
as I take in my sin,
and remember to breathe,
first out and then in.

Why is it these days,
that I stare at the rain?
And I think of the names
of the ones who played games?

Then I look to your eyes
and I stare in surprise
because sometimes
I
forget
that
you're
real.