the leaves were spreading across the pavement
they were bitter and were brown
the summer was all dormant on the great apple's front
your lips, too, were numb, without sound
and my back against your wall was pressed
hoping it would crumble down
i'd hoped the tale like cinderella's would last
that the white horse would come to rescue
but your mind was somewhere else
and beauty, she was sleeping, was awoken
and i woke up just in time
to realize that these leaves were nor bitter nor brown
but were simply far,
without a token to come around
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