As summer daisies locked in chains, inexplicably joined. In an inevitable twist of fate. The other daisies may wither and die. Not you and I. Coherent in an understanding. In a murky world we dwell. In a vague vacancy. Such comprehension. It is decreed. That as summer fades, we will not die. Chill of winter. Will worry us not. We shall be pressed together. Wedged between the pages in an antiquated book. In a love to withstand the touch of time. By ladylivvi1