lightly. when the leaves begin to fall i know once again
i'll fall in love with this season of change. per usual
i'll ask God why o why he keeps the sky purple
when i wish so deeply for it to be deeply black—
i'll keep this tongue flicking from my mouth to once again
capture a lovely between my thumb and forefinger:
i'll pretend i know what i can for her sake
and nothing of my own. it's all what
i'll do for a return to nighttime declarations
insightfully jumbled upon a blank computer screen.
i'll keep jumping with ever crack i walk over.
i'll always remember that the leaves are dead
and breaking them with my feet is unholy
because one should never disturb the resting dead.
i'll hold this season dearly to my heart as death rings
its bells to remind us that what once bloomed in April
is now buried under barren branches.
i'll play dead among the leaves as to not be disturbed.
i'll wander this earth searching for some form of life
so i can justify talking walks in the wee hours of the morning.
i'll find a way to make the moon smile at me
like it did all those months ago when i was not alone.
i'll take a drink from the copious waters where i bathed
in the summer to feel God's tongue on my skin.
i'll remember who God is for once.
i'll take this September the same way i take April:
i'll be alive.