there is more to be done, I know.

we have plants to water, stems to propogate, arrangements to reorder.


but the days have been so short, my Love. and the cold has crept into our bones, stifling movement.

when there is a moment of warmth i allow my Hands to clasp with Yours.

its hard outside, the noises are so loud.
and we've been through so much-
don't we deserve a small break?

pulling eachother along, trudging through the sludge. we remind ourselves of
the plants to water, the stems to propograte, the arrangements to reorder.

my Dear, what have we done ?

to live this life