Of Slangs and the Line

Seasons're drenching
each other out -
summer is to temperature and dead leaves are to fall,
these lost little horizons and we're mouthing
marvel at the days he lives
Everyday in spiral clouds
at setting sun's backdrop
while the day's wrapped
with nighttime,
but oh he knew not too well
even if we're the sun's orange sparks,
for it's all us we sell,
it's us and we sell relationships -
but again with time
we're on our own as the day bathes anew,
we're all aware where the line is
and the one who doesn't know is you

Folkdance

The leaves, falling,
breeze on the rise
and the moon soaked night
while the lazy world is yours
in untimely sighs
and time, the universe,
the cadence's woes
are yours to take
and but with prayers
for solitude
while your heart is theirs
to break,
stealing these daylights
that cringe with a hiss,
slithering onto you -
It's time for the waltz.