these are the signs:

open windows like autumn,
your name like a curse (or cure)
moments i don’t want to let go of
(and those i do).

starless indefinite nights
and the light within them,
the creeping suspicion that the
seasons are changing and
how we think we’ve always felt
will not always be
how we feel.

cold feet and the unpredictability of where life’s gonna send you now:
every wail of every siren, the sound of my heart