Your skin was

Amber;

Your mango freckles

Were the unique speckles;

The ink-

Of our dried out love letters

That were left far behind

By our Unrequiteds'

Steel framed minds.

Our letters...

That

Though,

Were

Subject to rejection-

Never left us hanging out to dry.

We were shaded by them-

Under our branches

That

Sprawled themselves

Up

Through November skies-

Back when

You

Were

Amber

And

I was rouge.

We climbed to the top

For a clearer view of the

Vultures who gathered below us;

Who had reduced us to

Cold corpses

With cavernous wounds.

"I kept climbing...

And you stopped."

I'll never believe our

Time together

Became ashes for a reason;

And I'll spend forever writing about

How

Autumn was just a season.