They met on a bright fall day
when the sun-patched sky seemed to hold nothing against her who held joy in excess,
and him who captivated her in the slowly setting September sun with his humor and vulnerability.
And she loved him, then and now,
with her full, full heart and soul,
brimming with happiness and hope for the future.
A ring and wedding bells,
a dress as pale as the moon,
a unity of hearts
under the gently falling leaves in August.
It struck her she was at her peak of good fortune in life,
and thus it was so.
For life moved on faster than the captivator could handle,
and one day he struck her,
a gentle blow of the tongue which turned into those of a calloused hand and an aging body.
He would lie with her at night,
and sometimes in the morning,
and he reminded her every day that she would never leave.
"Because you love me."
"Because you take care of me."
She cried alone and hid her face,
since she was the one to blame.
She should have watched September's dying leaves fall and disintegrate in the weather,
but instead listened to the whistling wind whisper sweet nothings against her blushing cheeks.
She sat down with her pen
and wrote these parting letters:
"Away, away,
with dues to pay.
Away to find September.
A thorny rose,
a bloody nose,
is what you will remember.
Find me when the leaves will fall,
when summer ends and all in all
you miss me
and the years we were together."
She signed her name and dried her tears,
and left a rose atop her work.
when he came home he found it.
He lifted the rose, and pricked his thumb thereafter,
and turning, saw her,
by the bed,
collapsed with an empty bottle between her fingers.
His love for her was underplayed
until he dropped the rose beside her feet and fell,
and spilled hot tears of anguish.
Though star-crossed and unorthodox, they shared a love -
a death-marked one.
