Autumn leaves

Summer time echoes in the fresh memory stealing wicked smile on the face, still brewing inside my core of things, still recovering from it… and yet again I have done my part of sin, expensive treats in my summer heat. Hotwiring women’s hearts, making my way through, the kind of diligent worker I am. Somebody just got to give…

And right now I can hear the cold of a new autumn, an omen and a signature for all those thousands of colors which need to be touched, smelled, and touched again. In all the depraved splendor of a soul stripped from pride, there is something left… there’s always something there, the well is never empty…

And like every other autumn I make an effort to forget, defying myself in a false pretense; when deep down in my conscience I truly know the meaning of what’s meant to remain unforgettable. Complementing the cold, time picks up somewhat slower pace.