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fyn gula
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Stubborness is not truly defined until an apology is offered.
An embrace is fuel to the fire.
In silence, he watches it burn, until nothing is left but ashes and broken hearts.
One of them his own.
She won't go to the Mellon Pavillion
because she's sick, ill with the absence of you.
And you want her there, more than just for the cake she will buy you.
So you tell me your delicate plans and moment by moment reveal the progress
like some third grade romance.
A fragile kiss on the cheek, you forgive her.
She explodes in your arms and her tears wash away the filth of your stained relationship.
In the charred remains, there are enough pieces to rebuild.
In the soot, seedlings emerge.
Twice more she cries for joy that you have restored your friendship.
And her perfume lingers all day as a reminder of her tenderness.
Forgiveness is a thing of beauty.
There is nothing broken that cannot be mended, as long as love moves the soul.
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000204
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