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a plea to the dying

you said you love autumn because it means that everything's dying. when you finally step outside to traipse across the pavement littered by scarletgoldamber leaves, you imagine them silently sympathizing with you.  if you go, please go on fire like these scattered pieces of fall, leached of their chlorophyll and daring to display what they're made of on the inside. but don't you dare forget, love: everything dies to live again.