P.S. I Know We'll Make It

Dear,


Darling, Baby, please ceaselessly cling to me
Before I’m perfectly lost in obscurity.
So, hold me strong and tight; I’ll sing to thee
Before we scatter, dissipate into the air.

Our skin, our breath, all we’ve got
Is loosely wound, heavy, and hot.
But, I must point out, if life is not,
Then how can death be so fair?

It won’t be long, though, all the same.
Don’t fret, since we’ll share the same name.
Like falling leaves, frozen in the frame
Of an Autumn photo, we’ll forever to-and-fro.

Our souls, ever-shifting desert sands,
Have interlocked and freed our hands.
Let’s see how long our temple stands
Through an eternity of trials and snow.


P.S. I know we’ll make it, Love.