the crisp fall air

Nov 18, 20113 min read

Deviation Actions

Published: Nov 18, 2011

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_{it has finally arrived after a much appreciated indian summer. with it, though, came the midterms and assignments and the lack of time to breath. today was my final midterm but several final papers are ominously waiting for me around the corner of next week. i took the breathing time i gave myself today to walk outside to my favorite little spot in the park and just sat, breathing in the cold, fresh air.

on a humorous, though admittedly slightly embarrassing, note- i finally figured out how to close the window that rests behind my headboard. this means that my restless nights spent waking up to the sounds of the road have come to an end.... perhaps i'll leave it open every once in a while. restless nights mean a restless mind.

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the feel of autumn:

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vous et pas d'autresnovember is named after a spice in the air that is narcotic, twisting leaves and branches gnarled and blackened by the early dark. they twist into my lungs and expand.
breathe, the forest whispers.
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november, i found myself hunched over paperbacks, the way a star shudders inward before exploding. my spine, a collection of wet pearls, slipped its fragile pink stitches with my skin. i can hear bones move, hear them click and whir beneath my trembling surface. there is nothing i can do. i am not a mechanic, nor a doctor, and these noises could be anything. i wait.
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i cough, and up come thorns, vines, cocoons. i remove my shirt and cough into it. i am empty, and a butterfly, intact, shivers up my oesophagus, scentless and damp.
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atmosphere soaks into me, leaving mercuric patterns floating silver on my skin. i am an oil spill, celestial, i reflect like black feathers. i am beautiful and i am ancient.
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i met her in august, after a heavy rain. the sweet grey}