autumn no love poem

the chill is supposed to
help us believe in love again
or at least yearn for the warmth
of another body in the cold

i’m swimming too deep in
nostalgia for patio-smoking
october mornings, memories of
a house in long beach and an
old old friend i am still
growing up with

only platonic passion
these days

no need for that come hither smile
across the room shy downward glances
stealing looks at lips standing close
radiating waves of curiosity

everything is held in melted away
in the heat of summer evaporated
dry desert days await hands
too rough to hold anything but rock

if autumn is for falling
i only care to do it
at the end of a rope

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