brevity

we were like indian summer

not meant to be

just happened

mother nature's privileged art

imperfection

out of season

precious mistakes

that make life unexpected

that pushes the living

forward

evolving

and we grew

the ever present cleavage of division

being unnatural as we were

I was thrown back to summer

and you locked in your fall

branched from a common past

spinning to disorder

abscission in the painful sense

in the end, it will have been brief

and then it seemed eternal

silly children with no concept of time

and faith in promises