how'm i gonna act like i can mend your wings
your fly is that sort of broken
you can't imagine otherwise
like stained glass
like patches
and other things that come in so many colors
blue i be when you don't call but
golden i see when you flutter past and
circles i spin trying to grasp just how
you came around that first time when
it was supposed to be a new season
i swear leaves are supposed to be falling
not me