The winter flower's bloom erupts in fragrance as your weariness cascades and crumbles with each step closer to the warmth of home (which is simply any space in the universe where our hands meet and our eyes say hello).
In truth, I hold on to you tightest in the moments when we close ourselves off from one another.
Even during floods of anger I know that soon, in the patient darkness, only regenerating beauty will spill from your night-sleeping eyes to mine.