The leafs haven't changed yet
and neither behind veiled night have I.
Curiously lingering in smoldering hope
as a murder of ravens take to the sky.
I will turn into autumn leafs
to dance September's song
tattoos and train tickets
write a history centuries long.
I could write until I die
and never completely tell you why
I love you unconditionally.
I approach.
I retreat,
like thundering waves of infinity.
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