i could bet five
hundred twenty-five thousand, six hundred
dollars, minutes, does it matter
if it's for you
i'm falling.
writing letters
are just whispering dead air
dead leaves crinkle
under your feet i am pulled
into your gravity.
was it you
or him, who said hello
from over the hill
you seem so small but
here we are.
shining shimmering splendor isn't
the words of that song
i played invisible trombones
what could it have been but
you've changed.
perhaps
when a year without you passes
i'll be able to change too.