The crunch of leaves beneath my feet, the only rush of angel's wings I would ever need. This sky of dark cement. These stars of no more wishing. The nearer the distance, the further this flight. Sleepy enough to feel the wind rise with the sound of drunken kisses. Awake enough to feel the change of light as you leave.
Some other life and some other season, all your reasons just steam leaving your lips. The drift of attachment only a vapor trail from your tongue. These sullen depths of memory that mingle with the change in the light. Of all the stages, of all the players, this is the way the tale untangles. What I missed and what you longed for, that same story at once told and undone. The glow of your smile both beacon and threat.
So comes fall, so wanders winter--. There is a photo, creased and fingered. There is a photo, breathing deep and bright. Once we were lost in sweet weather. Once we were certain in that failing light. A photograph parsed of meaning, a notion that dragged history along in its wake. One picture clung to, to bury all the rest.