springtime.
(with c.m.)
i feel the cool breeze as the condensation of night falls on my lips
as the days grow longer and i feel the excitement of your eternal kiss
my senses are heightened. is it this night? is it your touch? is it your
voice that shouts reason in the face of love for a question of lust by
the tree on the hill?
i know what follows springtime; the heat of summer, the cooling of fall,
the desolation of winter. is this forbidden isolation all that is left amidst
the terror of loss? does the tulip get tired of dying when the seasons change?
are we meant to die too? is this meant to die too? the changing tides of reason
forbid us to see the true path of destiny. we are blindfolded by what we think
is truth, and follow our own path to destruction.
if things don't grow, they die. this is the lesson we learn as children,
this is the lesson of the daffodils and the lillies of the valley and the
jonquils. and so it is with you and i. the true path of learning comes after
death, when you and i are together again.
