#10 Cicada

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The summer of our love

is the winter of my demise

After we kiss I wait until

you're not around

as tears can't hold back

any more attack,

the reality that the season

of us is over

is more than I can stand.

The weather doesn't match

the temperature

outside, where cidacads

molt and leave

their wings behind

so I can take their wings

and leave myself,

I'm just waiting for their corpses

to collect them all

and fly away to another place

where there's color in autumn

and winter in snow






















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