Love is never enough.
You know that.
I know that.
A little mores.
In hyperspace everything stands stilled.
Watching leaves
brown, orange, and blood red,
blow along the curb, flicking lights looping
with them
and finding time to hoc green sinus throat chunks
sticky where they smack
against those curbs.
Autumn love. Or something near it.
We get sloppy, don't we?
It's been easier spending time with you.
The sun is brutal on the water.
My sunglasses in your apartment.
Stars streaking back to night while we chit chat.
