Painting skies with the ashes of Summer's early demise
stark contrast of blue stretching canvas of cornflower
Tangerine skies decaying to gray
the ponds struck with fall early, and so its cold fist
snatches the lilies with them
Ice crystals form up there in the skies but still
they melt, maybe a good sign
and the slow burn feels kind of nice
when faced with the trance of cold's
enchantments.
I am playing with my words just like
you play with your food,
things you won't understand
your mouth filling the air with
sumptuous noise
only matching the thunderous stomps of sky
and waves
and she sleeps with you still
when you allow her
but admittedly that's not
too often, but with all
her energy and body and mind
I couldn't tell she doesn't sleep anyways