Fall: Halves
Old and failing
now that
the lines have
been drawn,
Fall left us
at the first
page turn,
of dawn.
Once the scale
tips the favor
in our hands,
I won’t ask
for anything more
than a grain
of sand to
measure against
the pearls, of
your eyes:
This is pain
and pleasure,
caught against
cutting the ties,
to what you
said and, what
I meant.
