When our faiths touched before our faces
The tumbled forms struggled blissfully for coherence, a battle more easily won with cigaettes in their mouths, each toxic breath a reminder of the existence of bodies. Heartbeats outside of emotion. The two wrapped and rapt forgotten by the spacial scenes of song and drinks and too many parties were set outside of their former realm. Without the regular smiling appearnaces consisting more of glances than conversation with the sad revelers, so sad they thought they were joyous, the two fell into the season. Gone were the summer's travels and stories of well-being and kinship. Replaced with the lure of deadened leaves and covered bodies, woolens intruding upon the shiny lotion-skinned bare-legged wonderes of a season passed. The death of summer could be no less mourned as the season changed from groping to embrace.