Poetry for Autumn.

There’s a particular smell autumn carries. It’s riddled with decaying leaves, apple cider, and overpriced fair tickets.


Riddle Me, Riddle You. 

riddle my thoughts and leak into my brain—as you do best.

reappear to me in a mirror image of myself.

shown in faded bruises and past scars.

confusion leaks from tears

and I don’t know why I still hold on,

to the memory of you.

you kept me confined, in 3-inch wrist ties.

you leaving,

me staying.

words are thrown with my beating desire

to merely love you.

I sat in silence and you stood close to the door;

one foot out.

savoring the moments you told me I was beautiful.

the same phrases you said to another the following evening.

drink until you’re drunk, baby

they’re only words.

and bruises don’t last forever.


Morning Cocktail

something to wake you up,

something sweet.

sweeter than a cup

of cream and three sugars—

never bitter.

take me as your morning coffee.

dip your tongue inside me,

savor every last taste.

drink me while I’m hot

don’t let me go to waste.

I’ll pass on the joe

this a.m.

but a morning cocktail, please.

and hold the olives.


Love Me Nots

over the break,

just below the horizon—

dusk gleams over the calm.

around us,

the air’s thick.

moist

like the heat after rainfall.

fireflies disappear,

kissing the moon a brief farewell.

hues of orange and yellows dance on the overgrown grass,

it lingers beside the riverfront.

I pick a wildflower,

you stick one behind my ear.

round and round again I pick off the petals.

one by one they fall,

as I sing

do you love me—you love me not.


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