Autumn Trees

There is a sense of knowing, almost a kind of boredom, when there is only the presence of the one. A sense of comfort in knowing there is space for it all.

He speaks the words, not from his knowing but from his presence. It might be a sigh deep enough to let me know his space, and I sit with it silently.

There is peace, and it almost feels taken a bit too much for granted as we know it's temporary. And yet we sit.

The autumn leaves have given up and shed their residue on the back patio. Our gentle steps crush them unknowingly, yet we still watch our steps, heel down first, wide open toes ending last, so we may feel these last moments together.

In peace, in the dark. Take another breath and I will say I will make it up to you in the night. 

Finally, at last, here we are in the moment we once chose as our bodies burned in flames and as you said you said you would make it up to me. Peace. Finally.

You and me and these Autumn trees.