You Forget Me Not

I should never want. Would you, I could ever know of one thing. Having broken three rules up above. You know if I look out at the crystal clear moon, the red branch of how slow autumn returns where I stand. Trees loosing branches the bushes are bald once again denuded of leaves. Out of your window all around there below. If I touch the glass it must close. As close to the fire impalpable ash without being blurred. The Silhouette is a cameo of one mound, you carry to me. Light as if varied exists, deep aromas I smell.