Often Here

The autumn air clutches at me,
my black shoes crunch the orange leaves,
and the ones that have not fallen
keep the sun from my reach, and cast shadows.

The forest is empty. But I see a magpie and I
salute him and we watch as the orange sun sinks
floundering, captured by the black sky. The moon burns
and the orange leaves set ablaze and turn to ash. 

I lay alone on the forest floor, with you by my side,
and we kiss and my lips crack yours, and my touch breaks
your skin, we continue and I feel your back all at once arch
and break, you cry out, then look up and smile at me.

I watch you stand, the curve of your legs spills
from between your ivory dress. Lace criss crosses
your chest I put my hand on your stomach
and raise my head to look up at you.

Your blue eyes shimmer down upon me and the
black covering my body, yes the suit is dirty.
I start to stand but your delicate hand, spectral and pale
stops me. You lay me down, and close the lid.

That's when I here the soil fall around my head.