I can remember a time whenever I was living in Baton Rouge. My creativity was stunned for the first time as--what I now call--a click was upon me. I remember having to hide myself away into the dark night time hours, so I could express myself in the night blind eye and deaf ears of my lover at the time. It was in these times that I found myself smoking cigarettes from my third story window as to not encounter my broken relationship with my best friend and roommate. It was in the Fall that year--two-thousand & six--that I wrote "A New Autumn". Here, some seven years later, I find myself hidden away in the dark night hours trying to hide from blue eyes that didn't see past first shadow, and longing for the ears of the same man who was gone before he left.
If it were so I would write a new autumn. I would keep his blood warm with laudanum, And his mind drunk on brandy wine. I would break the water, and not think twice.
