ever-changing endearments
I shall write you a thousand love letters in a multitude of colors.
Scrawl them in chalk on the pavement outside your house.
(Though some will be neatly written and artistically composed, easier to decipher than the almost-illegible passionate scrawls.)
They will be washed away by rain or snow or street sweepers.
Scuffed into dust by the soles of passing shoes.
There is no way to protect them from such things.
They may even vanish before you have a chance to read them.
But when the ground is clear and dry again I will write more messages, with new words and different color combinations.
That way my love will never fade.
It will be renewed and changed and it will grow with each iteration.
About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.
