The still young night,
Hung by my fainted window,
Barely burdened by the darkness,
Etching away at my frozen toe.
The leaves, a mime in the wind,
Playing it's own game of freeze tag.
Awaiting the sun to rise up from it's long sleep,
To take tricks from my own bag.
My back screaming for relief,
A song silencing it's demise,
It quieted into a hush,
Knowing it was all around spies.
My fingers quickly pointed out a lonely leaf,
Plastering itself onto the window sill,
Stuck to it like gorilla glue,
Not yet getting it's fill.
As I laid here pondering,
The fact that you belong with me,
That perfection awaiting us both,
Not wanting you to be swallowed by the sea.
The hungry sharks snaring,
Chomping at your ankles,
Barring your life incomplete,
Being their own rankles.
My life almost done,
The near bittersweet in my mouth,
I see your lone beautiful face,
And begin my fall down south.
