secrets

what is more exciting?

the possibility of shattering our love,
or the magic of watching it shatter and disappear
only to reform as if by magic
in some new way

leaves on trees

if each leaf
was a moment
and each breeze
was our love

our lives would rattle in the summer
and scatter in the autumn
then finally rest at peace in the icy winter
only to rebloom again when the warmth of spring returns