“you are my sweetest downfall.” – Regina Spektor
for the autumn comes
and so, thoughts of you
in those thick sunshine spills
ever-moving heat stains,
the remains of summer
on the cold wood floors
a favourite
for cat naps
and cold feet
the fall is a
sweet transgression
of silence and truth
though history
won’t mention
my mistakes, or yours
but will omit, transpose, distract
the details
and the story will be sweet
because in the ochre of autumn
the tragedy of love
is hypocrisy, irony, philanthropy
and we become
martyrs of our own
devices, cat naps, and cold feet.
© Copyright 2006. Darby M. Eakins, all rights reserved.
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