Pale September

Pale September. I wore the time like a dress that year. The autumn days swung soft around me like cotton on my skin, but as the embers of the summer lost their breath and disappeared my heart went cold and only hollow rhythms resounded from within. But then he rose, brilliant as the moon in full, and sank in the burrows of my keep. And all my armour falling down in a pile at my feet, and my winter giving way to warm as I'm singing him to sleep.

He goes along just as a water lily, gentle on the surface of his thoughts. His body floats unweighed down by passion or intensity, yet unaware of the depth upon which he coasts and he finds a home in me. For what misfortune sows, he knows my touch will reap.

And all my armour falling down in a pile at me feet, and my winter giving way to warm as I'm singing him to sleep. All my armour falling down in a pile at my feet, and my winter giving way to warm as I'm singing him to sleep.