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Dealing with loose ends
is autumn’s inconsistent lover

being high on a love affair,
both passionate and imagined,
with giving up shades of green
for reminders of gold,
streets that are littered
with wet love letters and
the feeling that everything
is about to change
and leave us alone

and so the bed of memory
becomes fire and we reach
a little farther than we are
prepared to let go
and try to finish things
the unkempt hair of last night’s
frolic with indecision getting
tangled with every goodbye,
every movement
towards the door

in turns negotiating,
then, lustily reveling
in the recollection
of once being so ignited
then, feigning indifference
as we run our fingers
along the place
where it still feels good
after it has stopped working

and we are dirty again
withΒ moments
we’ve almost forgotten,
almost being the word we use
because it takes too much space
to say our innocence didn’t
get spared by the brutality
we have set the stage for,
because we gave too much

and we hurry to make sense
of the half-hearted healing,
parts of our skin still
covered in spring
and a bitter taste
on the corners of mouths
that find it too soon
to speak, but too late to kiss

reading between the lines
of the falling leaves before
they, too, become casualties
before the first snow
as promised
and we should, somehow,
suddenly measure up
to this demanding, nearly
matrimonial devotion to shadows
and salting the frozen paths

and blaming the tilt of the axis
instead of chemistry failing
for the consummated,
unrequited, broken tether
to the lost summer.

Angelina Jolie for Vogue 2004
by photographer Mario Testino
View more work by this artist.


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