We pull our hair into messy buns
Displaying the fraying edges and change into ill-fitting clothes that have seen better decades
And we want men to love us
Even in this
This autumnal change of appearances
This departure from smoke and mirrors
Especially this.
But we go out in new coats of paint
And contrarily ill-fitting clothes
Summery in our touches
And wintry in our gaze
To attract the boys
But it is autumn again when they leave
We desire to be wanted for what we do not want to be loved for
It is the season of discontent