And with heart on my sleeve
I breathe on beneath austere moon,
watch as peonies close at night.
Did you know it would come to this
a poem, a glance, and lasting kiss
how’s it that everything has changed
and yet nothing is different–
There is no other softer pain
remember love doesn’t let us write
our own ticket, and that woe is ours
until we learn to forget.
From midnight to slow rising sun,
I cup my hands around wistful mug
knowing that if I had to I would
do it all over again.
Photo credits: Pinterest
Posted on Fireblossom Fridays @ Real Toads