Two spines laid on countless spines. Soil was brunette A body yard from virginal And my seed was unspent Until her declaration soddened her thigh And I cried on a shared sternum Where countless I love you’s Were wasted on from desire. It was Autumn I felt sorry for, And when I feel like falling – I return, To the spastic oak ravaged since by lightning That split our names into splinters. It is Autumn that took my innocence And not the brunette of spring.