We met in the final breaths of summer,
hanging onto every last inhale
and fluttering in the wind's slow release.
Gold bloomed in the branches, greens no longer able
to keep hold
as the heat of august gave way to
a misty September.
The taste of love lost lingered on my tongue,
stinging my tastebuds
until all seemed sour.
I was the leftovers;
the spaces left empty by atoms,
unravelled and spilling at the seams,
amongst the galaxies.
Your earthen eyes grounded my skyward gaze.
You took hold of my ankles
as I evaporated in your hands.