your lionheart, remember?

Your face turns into swans more and more lately.

I see them and cry.

I cry for you as much as I cry for myself these days.

I wish there was more I could do than shout promises at you.

But know this: That I am more than ripples in a pond; that this is more than a promise of words tying us together.

This is sunshine and darkness.

These are days.

Life.

I intend to keep you in sight for as long as it is humanly possible.