Autumn is for lovers,
Like the cotton that lays my chest
Autumn is wool socks and denim jeans—
and boots with rubber crests
Autumn is gossamer gloves, entwined
Fingers clenched beneath—
Hand in hand the couple gallops
through the beads in the rain
Autumn is the home at birth—
To the apartment the couple swoons!
Autumn is tumbling, caked in flesh—
the couple between the rooms—
Do your lobes not tingle? Your nipples arouse?
My joints, they’re slipping—
Autumn rides me like a mare!
Ahh, my sweet—in your arms I’m forever pale
Watch autumn descend the strut of this city—
As if I wasn’t even here.