she grows weary
the answers come
and go
and change
and don't

fullfillment
hope
ever present
and ever fleeting
both of us
caught up in
momentary
bouts
of all things
positive
and all things
negative

comforted by
the hands resting
on my neck
gently proclaiming
trust
love

this remains
one of the
few
gifts of
stability

butterflies
only live
for a month