Better Things

autumn leaves, they
fall to the pine-bathed
soil, and my heart falls
with them, and I think it's burning
too, burning too, for all it takes
is one glance into your
amber eyes, september sight, and
you've got my

heart pounding so loud in my chest
like the beat of leaves to the forest
floor, copper-toned, so red
orange bright
that I'm scared, I'm
scared I'll burn my
finger if I touch them, like sepia

is the blanket on my soul as I
creak open the Jeep's door, it's
rusted, and
blends into the leaves when I hold them
near. Camouflage. Here's me
smiling from the passenger
seat, seems
like the only thing that can
match the energy of my
wild heart, throbbing,
glowing, shy, beaming

is the red on the radio,
every word of
evermore pounding through
my heart, my hips, my body, my lungs
my lips
and for once I have better things
to be doing than wondering why I
can recite every word of an hour thirty
eight
second long studio album but zero
formulas to solve for the x-inter---I
don't even want to think about that.
(procrastinating) I

peel open the ceiling mirror, knit
hat latte-toned above my
strawberry freckles, copper
eyes, thanks
for this brown-amber cardigan on
me, I
think I
like it, twist
my necklace back around to
make a wish, call it out, head out
the window, hair riding the crisp autumn
wind, I've got
the best kind of whiplash now, alive
again, this is living, this autumn chill, my
wish, just in time to sing, if

you're ever tired of being know
for who you know, you know
you'll always know me. You know,

you'll always find me. long
car rides in red, spinning
under foliage, changing at the pace of my
heart, you know
where I'll be.