Are You Ready?

The warm hues of the cascading leaves

complement my golden skin's glow.

Brisk air hits our faces as we stroll

and your nose changes to crimson.

 

I don't experience this Rudolph-esque situation,

but on your moonlight skin, it looks well.

You stoop so I can button you up better

and you pull me tightly underneath your arm.

 

Shameless artists in the park pitch their respective spiels.

Do you want a cariacture? Something to capture this moment?

We've walked past these freelancers often.

They seem to belong there with the trees and benches.

 

Autumn in New York City entraces these tourists.

"Can you take our picture?" Click, click.

"Thanks! We'll take yours if you want!"

We strike our usual couple pose; people love to photograph us.

 

Alone together, I take a deep breath.

The leaves entangle themselves in my curls.

"Are you ready?" You kiss my hands.

Fearlessly, you lead me into the sunset.

 

I trust you to get us there.