the years go backwards

 
lately i've been dreaming in vague riddles
crossing out and checking off what might be real
pretending that i can trace strawberry lips
and the outline of smoke who's only purpose
is to forget

i can't remember if it's time for the leaves to fall
but they do anyway
and the wind leaves me empty
blowing away my breath and everything else
because i've forgotten how to hold on
tight enough
to things like love