september.

i sit and drink my evening tea,


and settle in to read the old letters.

the taste of orange, it lingers on

my tongue.



you threw up the blinds,

to let in the full glare of

a bright cold day in the city.



i lay by the lake and breathe

in the smell of the earth,

so like your skin.



meeting strangers at dawn,

you resettle your glasses on

your crooked nose.



evenings alone, with thoughts of you.