Oct 28, 2024
Autumn gold has stained everything: the dewdrops on the grass, the leaves waving orange and red and yellow, the birds flitting between them, the clouds behind. I try to look elsewhere, close my eyes, to see anything except that gold, but it’s everywhere. Because, of course, it’s you. Your color, your soul, that gold — the gold of your hair, your laugh, your sweat. Your gold plagues me, has polluted me, until finally darkness falls and I am left to my nightmares of you.