dear fall:

i’ve thought about dropping my bed off at the dumpster and stopping by the consignment shop and picking up the twin size mattress and sitting it on cinder blocks and wooden slats so i could sleep tight this winter – breathing into her neck.

this autumn will not allow that to happen.

this autumn finds me sitting low in crimson, leather seats – eyes slightly above the steering wheel.
fingertips slightly gripping below.
the nights have never been so crisp.
the air has never tasted so welcoming.
it’s as though it showered before my arrival.

and she stands there blowing from her lungs what she grew up believing was smoke –
wanting to say to the girl closest to her “i can see my breath.”
but they aren’t friends.

the starbucks cup and p-coat reminds her that warmth did and does exist.
the sky’s attempt at darkness brings her memories of summer sit-downs on park benches and piers after hours of shopping for lip gloss – shoes and scarves for the coming winter.

the scarf around her neck reminds her of his impersonation of her muslim mother who wore scarves to the market because the owner would always comment on her beauty in scarves and give her the discount he saw fit.

she stood there alone.

my lungs inhaled what was left of the cologne sprayed on my white t.
my lungs exhaled the chorus of an old otis redding song:

‘i’ve got dreams to remember’

the cold is here.
she feels it.
i feel it.

i want to sit low beneath goose down comforters with her – eating plantain chips and chocolate chip bread pudding with coconut ice cream – listening to sade depress the shit out of both of us.

i want to frequent malls with her, visiting every store – vowing to never shop with her again – carrying all eight of her bags to the car when it’s over.

i want to fall in ‘like’ this autumn, pushing her down in a pile of leaves – then letter her catch me just to see what her revenge will be.

i want to fall in love this winter watching her read through the newest ‘vogue,’ and ‘elle’ while sitting on the counter – heat on 95 degrees, salads on plates, dressing on the side – and neither of us hungry because we’ve filled up kissing.

this autumn, though, finds me sitting low, in crimson, leather seats watching her waiting for him – not me.
and remembering what i hope is to one day be.

i unlock my door for the woman currently waiting on permission to occupy the right side of my queen.
i exhaled on an old sade joint:

‘when i lay eyes on you’

2 Comments Add yours

  1. Naddy says:

    your emotions are strong.
    almost tangible.
    You invoke emotions and provoke empathy.
    you love hard.

  2. Adjua says:

    Hands down one of my fave bloggers because of pieces like this one. I’ve been considering giving up my queen size…but only because my loneliness is tired of stretching out. Thanks for sharing.

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