The false Autumn when the leafs shed
like your sleeveless bridal gown,
in a cooler than expected September
that gave you goose bumps
and I imagined like a rumour
you had a tattoo of some past love.
For when I said I do
the past should be a spent,
bereft of decayed leafs and longings.
We have our own pinnacle to the stars,
an unspoken trust
and no false reasons
to be other than who we are.
Sep 15, 2013
Sep 15, 2013 at 8:27 AM UTC
The false Autumn when the leafs shed
like your sleeveless bridal gown,
in a cooler than expected September
that gave you goose bumps
and I imagined like a rumour
you had a tattoo of some past love.
For when I said I do
the past should be a spent,
bereft of decayed leafs and longings.
We have our own pinnacle to the stars,
an unspoken trust
and no false reasons
to be other than who we are.
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