Autumn rolls against us―outside the morning chorus―you roll over― held in ivory sheets―looking― dawning tendernessin sleepy auroras sermon― animationpaved the simplest rule―along those stationary moments―and I fell for you in those words―it's so hard to get out of bedwith you there―

Pixelated imagesDance across the carpet,Perhaps todayWill wish the world anew...

We swim against―our own sweet moments― lappingthe hours in expanded pleasuresthat swagger away― our wilting sentience―pretending to be― existent―

If I could count the infinity of youI’d place each second within your soul,and lay my breath between the starsthat form your heart and whole.

Fly away,” sang little lark to the crow,“There is no home for youAmong the broken promises and empty hearts. We drewthe life we never mourned, away with fading dark.Your wings are fashioned from the cold, mindless liesof feathers tarred with pitch!

I typed regretinto a search engineand the familiar faceof Hemingway appeared.Were his wordspoured out for melike wine waitingfor lost hearts?