Thursday.

I drank with my hands cupped
around the wine- white, it swilled
around, whistling the air out,
spilling on me, clean and toxic,
it went down a treat,
neat and dry, it made
me cry, two bottles in
I had to sit down,
I was thinking of you
I had to call you,
I really had to.

21.

I stood at the edge of here and now
and looked in and didn't speak the
language, wasn't as bilingual as
I have been. I saw you there with
new hair and new shoes and you looked
good enough to eat but I wasn't hungry.

I saw myself as taller, a little bit stronger
than I was but not as strong as I will be
I saw that my hands were wrinkled but
apparently, no one can change time. I always
spent too long in the sun and never thought

the day would come when I'd be older and
wish it had been a permanent winter.
When I'd regret sleeping, eating and having
these visions of you in your loveliness- I sort
of wish I'd been an indoors person with a house
and a cat and without all these problems. You

know, none of us is getting any younger, and
I am always getting just a little bit too old
for this, and a little bit slow for what you are
thinking. When I think about what I had in
my youth I'll wish I hadn't spent it drinking
so I'd remember. It was late september
when I met you, but that was then and
this is now.

Red + Gold.

She was obscured by blonde
leaves, papery
thin, crackling against
skin, they piled up
high and made a crown
for her.

Later, tawny skin
meets white teeth
meets auburn meets
auburn meets
autumn.