LXXXVII.

The air is getting cooler,
Fresh almost,
Like the way you used to look at me,
Or me at you.
I passed my exit tonight,
It's been a while,
Like the way you used to sing to me,
Or me to you.
I'm losing myself again,
Differently though,
Like the way you used to watch me sleep
Or inversely.

I watch fires flicker through the winter.