Let our love be a soft
flower in an open field.
Gaze at the field,
and you shall not see one, but many.
Gaze at each flower,
and you shall see one, and many
So that each petal
is a different love.
So be it then, that
never shall one find
the same love we share amongst another blossom.
In our eyes, our soft blooms,
rugged impacts of many-a-winter
and those little surprises we cast.
Our blossoms gaze into the summer sky,
knowing seasons will change,
but that after the snow,
the fog, the rain,
Summer will cast her beauty again
and two flowers will stand,
stems and leaves intertwined,
supporting each other,
ready to brave another winter.
May our flowers never cease to exist...
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