it was autumn when you left and it will always be autumn when I look backMature

It is not autumn, yet, but I can already smell it when it rains;
the heavy decay, the last traces of smoke, the quiet rot of it.
I always think of you this time of year and your name 
tastes like metal in my mouth, I roll it over my tongue 
in a constant rhythm, circling it along the backs of my teeth.
You always were part of the memories with blood in my mouth.
I relive the nights we spent following road signs and
living off of diner specials and warm water bottles from the trunk.
I do not think of the summer heat or the way we glistened
like mirages in the desert while our bodies burned in the light.
It was autumn when you left and it will always be autumn when I look back.

The End

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