Autumn

When he held my hand,

I could not help but feel at home-

safe in his arms.

 

When he looked into my eyes,

I saw all of the stars laid out before me

in swirling galaxies of my own.

 

When he smiled,

I could have died then-

content with the world and my part in it.

For,

if nothing else in my meager existence,

that smile had been perfect.

 

I told him he is worth more

than it all.

He smiled again,

but this one was merely a veneer.

 

He had not believed me.

 

The world had ruined him

from true statements.

It had,

instead,

enchanted him with its false glimmers

of plastic diamonds held to the light.

 

He did not realize

he was the only true one-

glimmering in the center of their

chandelier of parties and champagne.

 

He had not realized he was wonderful,

even without the rest.

 

Every day I wish he had.

 

For when I returned

that afternoon,

I did not see my dear,

my precious one,

waiting for me in his large empty assortment of rooms.

 

Instead,

I found the butler shot by the phone

and my love,

my everything right in the world,

lying face down in the pool-

red fanned out across the surrounding water

like the wisps of the willow

we shared our first kiss under.

 

I can always remember

how cold I felt

then.

How cold

and alone-

the first time since I moved here

in the beginning of this summer.

 

It was the first day of autumn.

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