My Shitty Poetry

Here's where I'll put my shitty poetry.

Your hair is like autumn
Bright orange and pumpkin spiced
The curve of your hips is the arc
Of the hill we walk up hand in hand
Looking towards daylight
Night sky behind us
Always in the liminal space
Between sleep and waking
The spell isn't broken yet
The crisp leaves beneath our feet
Still feel real
Kiss me before I wake up

Roses are red
Violets aren't blue
I know my poetry sucks
So shut up and fuck you