Sweetish autumn

 

Between the pages of an ordinary book

I was killing time.

Already September.

Few distant voices and an abstracted autumn out of the window.

I was nearly hoping you would never come,

I was nearly thinking I did not miss you and yet

I was waiting.

 

Amusing myself seemed quite easy,

I thought I could bear your indifference

Resorting to excuses and useless remedies.

You were that sore point, it was you, sweetish autumn, it was you.

 

I coldly considered my limits,

My rash actions and frequent giving-ups.

It was late and my eyes were stinging.

I stared at the ceiling,

At my unmade bed.

I was nearly hoping you would never come,

I was nearly thinking I did not miss you and yet

I was waiting.

 

Amusing myself seemed quite easy,

I thought I could bear your indifference,

Resorting to excuses and useless remedies

I thought I could stifle my impatience.

You were that sore point, it was you, sweetish autumn, it was you.

You were that sore point, it was you, sweetish autumn, it was you.

 

Sweetish autumn…