Anything after the crisp breathe of October hurts;
Like an ache deep in the fibers of muscle tissue,
Or a hangover you can never fully stomach through.
Anything after the crisp breathe of October lingers;
A worried whisper echoing in the hollow of an ear.
Remnants of blood orange and deep red run cold.
The fires lick up the sides and all I can do is watch it burn.
Watch it all unfold and surely