dead leaves

some days i feel
like the moon is closer than it usually is
and in the sky it's looking larger
and i wonder if it means you're closer
or if you're just looking out for me
but i'm probably just making lies
to comfort me, and shut my eyes
yes, i think i am.
when it gets warm
i hope that it's you breathing
or that i am
sharing the same air you are
where ever you are
and the leaves, off of trees
remind me of you
and the look of old keys
and the sound that they make
turning tumblers in an old lock
stuffed in a chest,
old linen and wedding dress
with the scent of a flower pressed into a page and rotted for thirty-five years
or a veil soaked in joyfully wept, delicate beautiful tears

life is a whiff of the smell of dead leaves
blown away with the wind in a delicate breeze