It feels bittersweet to love you, as though time has
already its ruinous path and everything good is over
before it begins.
It feels perilous to love you, like a dust storm swallowing
up the sky or a comet skimming the stratosphere.
But it is an honor to love you. Like the snow drifts giving
way to spring, I will hold you for as long as I can.
Autumn 