Mikala

17

The Fall of Summer

My pupils are flooding with blue cuddles floating
painting my palms smeared now with soft green below.
A distant breeze shuffles all outer skin white,
while the leaves’ colors fight into view.

Red tackles love, work
time spent gazing into
Lustful eyes.

Green fades like money:
careful of its actions,
regretful with every boring purchase.

Yellow takes the sounds
the music and identities,
all unified by starry boisterous nights.

Time melts with the void here,
wandering after long shifts,
willingly wondering
Is this affair the Last?