Autumn

In October you have more blood in your eyes, see more clearly and do not need to dream about the water, the cold sea and the evenings, where the moon washes ashore like a mine made of brass. The overcoat is already whispering of better days to come: the insoluble equations of the storms and the leathery trees in the parks. The tongues of strangers and the new color of the sand. All the angels will stay tucked in their coffins, their mouths stuffed with leaves.

Autumn

In October you have more blood in your eyes, see more clearly and do not need to dream about the water, the cold sea and the evenings, where the moon washes ashore like a mine made of brass. The overcoat is already whispering of better days to come: the insoluble equations of the storms and the leathery trees in the parks. The tongues of strangers and the new color of the sand. All the angels will stay tucked in their coffins, their mouths stuffed with leaves.

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