Higher In Autumn

Higher In Autumn

Make up your own mind. Take your own time. You don’t have to rush it through.
Smoke alarm rings. Cigar stains. He was here once, now I’m lying.
To you I seem fine. You know it’s not alright. To stare at someone so fragile.
Like the times you did before. Don’t mistake the little hints for me being ignorant.
How else could occupy your attention? When you turn up towards the autumn
Sun, I believe truly that there is a higher power guiding me along. I won’t admit it, but you’ve heard my skeptical mind shutting you down all those times you mention him.
Or she, no one knows. Then there are the days where the suns flecks die again, watching the downpour on the skylight making their way down you cheek. Affectionate passion, bitter to taste. You hold again everything. I look up at the falling dark yellows and reds. I smile and breathe again. I close my eyes and you’re there again. Wrapping me in your sweater. From then on I am surly positive. That I have no one else to answer for. You are my higher power.