there were thirty nine days left and i shoved you out the door into summer heat.

when i close my eyes, i see rain; when i open them, it's fall in normal, usa.

the grass, intermingled with the mud, lays flat, concedes. as i do, so close to the ceiling.

perched precariously on fall's handlebars, when i close my eyes, i see snow;

when i open them, it's fall in normal, usa. i celebrate being alone with a pile of used books

and a warm sweater, to-go cocoa on my right hand, stained from writing and living.

a toast! the flowers are curling into the dirt and we play funny songs and ping pong with no table.

thirty nine days later and i can see the smell of snow on the horizon, my stomach churns.

when i close my eyes, i see warmth and quiet; when i open them, it's fall in normal, usa.