something in the cadence breathing into the arrangements that flow beneath your skin gives you away; tell me how many lives have you shed? …

won’t you hold me in your arms? I want to disappear into myself. …

here it is. here it is. again. again. at last and already golden, euphoric rearrange; crisp sun rays glisten with sap and only when the cold invades do the days hint at maple and amber notes unfolding until you can taste the season’s Bittersweet. I’ve always loved it that way. …