487.

A surrealistic
fanfare, solipsistic in
its failing wonder.

486.

The dragging feet of
fall finally bestows the
sweetest of kisses.

485.

The press of fingers
a slow benediction, with
me as your altar.

484.

Such safety in the
stretch of arms full reach, holding
me gently captive.

483.

My fingers carded
through your hair, trying to read
emotion's beneath.

482.

You tasted of joy
and laughter, bubbling beneath
that tongue's soft surface.

481.

It was a fall sky,
not unlike this one's moment,
completely suffused.

480.

I think of you, hand
in mine, awkwardly fervent
with love held between.

479.

Her vulnerable
tragedy seduces one
into a heart's trap.

478.

The colored fever
of this fall's storms, resonates
like an anchored bell.

477.

The cogitating
of a mind, instills such an
urgently pressed lust.

476.

The demonstrative
love between ends as little
more than a hanging.

475.

The heart of music
reaches out and catches me
with each pulse of sound.

474.

And on their ghosts roll
and tumble within my ribs,
my mother and hers.