FALL
Is
The autumn of attachment is
Passion wilting, cleaving halves
Mellow, softening,
Orange glow of canopy’s underside
Us
A carpet of convergences,
Woven of rough and plush,
Twin sides of domesticity
Our mushroom underworld of connection
As A Circle
Line - deceptive end is fraying
The journey now borne round,
A pregnant decomposition
Of Fibonacci’s serial fate
