They say that love fits like a glove. But love doesn't fit like a glove. We fit into dozens of gloves throughout our lives. We use a new pair every winter, We cherish them when the cold hits But when the trees turn back to green The scarves fall to the floor We forget about sweaters and warm blankets… The gloves disappear somewhere in a closet where we can never find one or the other again. It doesn’t bother us. We buy a new pair. Miss the warmth of the previous one, Maybe miss the familiarity of a pair that fit perfectly for a while but then…
Then we forget.
And it goes on and on. So love doesn’t fit like a glove. Love doesn’t fit. Love torns.
**But it is so worth it
Winter is coming and I have nothing to cover my hands