blushes

Our Last Bluster

I saw autumn at night
and remembered the settled
feeling in my chest like a mild cold
and spending days in bed
in a room surrounded by windows
as the sun wanes
for death. It's lighter there,
and after all is said and done,
who said we need to breathe
from our lungs
for our cold, hard pieces
of the past holed up
in a medicine cabinet.
Whatever I said to you,
whatever I said, was meant
to be swept through
the cabinet, into a foreground,
into something hanging
there like a lone star in the city sky.