Monday, 5 October 2009
Love is such a light and femur thing... We hold it to our bosom, kissing its forehead, smelling its perfume, and finally at the end of the evening, we tuck it into the cot there, wrapping the warm woollen blankie around its soft form, whispering hope into its gentle, slumbering breaths...
We whisper to our love sweet nothings, we covet love's beauty and its light and warmth... We scent its milk-scented swathes, as it encircles us securely in love and light and longing.
And in the Teenage Years, we find that love can shatter, not unlike a slender teardrop of glass - Fragile, beautiful and short-lived...
And so we tiptoe around love's crib, careful not to tread on the razor-sharp glass slivers of pain and torment that hurt and wound our paper-thin, parent-skin.
Yours in love and sadness,
at 12:16 am