i walk along the street
with widow’s ankles
beneath an umbrella of spider webs
and butterfly wings
wearing
the wisdom of last night’s lipstick
passed unadorned doorways
watching the
ornamental cherry lanterns
hanging from trees
drip autumn rain
onto
leaves who have lost their desire
to retain chlorophyll
exposing bloody red motives
cast to a barrel for burning
our love affair boarded up in the summer house
the light is giving way to tones of decline
a soft funereal glow
i kiss the lamp posts to ignite their fire
a sapphire ring upon my finger
tucked into a pocket of london fog
this is the time of year
memory holds court
as we mourn the never wills
and the never was