May 5, 2013 § Leave a comment
I could mark the night we met,
but what did I know then
of how you would take root in my heart?
What do I know now
of the seasons we will make together?
We are forever meeting anew.
I mark, instead, the night before,
which (despite the shifts in our seasons
and the variety of flowers this love produces)
remains in this:
it was the last night I fell asleep
without you on my mind.