I prepared for your arrival long before I can remember,
not knowing when or from where you would come,
not knowing your name,
never imagining your beauty. How could anyone?
And yet we found each other
like the wind finds autumn leaves,
still clinging to dreams –
Love longs to make us naked:
the winter is our true birth,
spring merely a glorious celebration
of our faith and willingness to shed tears,
open our chests,
and walk holding hands, whispering under a starless night,
for the sun,
she will rise tomorrow,
illuminating our hearts,
those delicate mirrors shining back the only reminder:
mortality is always the first kiss.
