LOVE IS A LAKE THAT WILL FALL FROM THE SKY
Love is a lake that will fall from the sky.
That’s what we felt, the first time we kissed.
The shy awkwardness of our braces, quickly submerged to the thrilling jolts in our stomachs.
Inscribing our love deep in the tree, scarring the bark in some future recognition, even as the leaves rustled their forgiveness.
But love is a tree that grows in the night.
That’s what we know as we grow old together.
Burnished caress of the long familiar.
The daily graft of air and water.
The alchemy and blessings
of this patient, loving craft.