We are fragile, little things.
Chipped china teacups
In the hands of careless kings.
Caught in the fall,
Cherry blossom dreams,
The sighs of autumn
Keep us aloft on weathered wings.
Tethered to the will of winds
The water shouts and sings.
Overflowing that fragile teacup,
Scalding the hands of world worn kings

In the wrapping of her arms and legs,
And the squeeze of a hug:
A binding pretzel love.

The deepest feelings
Don’t extend through time:
Chapters of the heart,
Come in little breaths.

Do you ever wonder
if flowers cry the way
clouds do up in the
sky* ~

Dressed in nothing
but stardust and the
night. While feeding
on poetry and baby
moons* ~

Your first love's that person on the prologue of your love story
Your true love's the minor character at the start but the epilogue of your glory
Your first love's the one who leaves tears where there was laughter
Your true one wipes those tears and lives with you happily ever after
Your first love's the one you trust at first sight and doubt at last
Your true love's the one you doubt but ultimately fall and wholly trust
Your first love's the one you think you'll never forget in your lifetime
Your true love's the one not worth remembering but you never forget
Your first love's either the
first person whose heart you break
or the one who breaks your heart
Your true love's either the person
whose shattered heart you heal
or who heals & steals your hurt
I know sometimes first love can be true but
Your first love's most times the fantasy that drowns the sailor
And chains but true love's the reality you finally settle for,your "bailor"