the words that describe the way She’s framed tended with loving affirmations
petals age every passing october
endless and endless ties of conversation
love encapsulated in its seeds of saturation

Cathedrals are the product of the devotion of thousands. As I stand there, my grandfather tells me of a man, then his son, and then his son’s son, who all worked on the gargantuan mosaic that now splashes across the ceiling.

As I sit on this bench and watch the cars pass, I am suddenly no longer a myth, a legend, a king rolling a rock up a hill. I am a girl packing her life into cardboard boxes in anticipation of leaving everything she’s ever known behind.