chariots

"chariots"

my hand rested on your cheek; tiny capillaries

became circuits of fever. i recalled an old philosophy:

what's good for you is

good for me. your frame is one of nature's grand designs.

time after time it is apparent that

seasons change

slowly.

& i watched the trees as their leaves fell only to drag

themselves slowly across the cold wet dirt. there were

still secrets,

still words,

left unspoken. our crowns were fashioned in autumn leaves

& misshapen

branches. season after season, we remained

slaves to one another.