My future is stretched across the sky, changing color with every incremental movement of the sun. Beneath the canopy, blotches of light deface the solemn austerity of a field of tombstones and their long-decayed subterranean inhabitants. Reading from top to bottom, this is my life--sun, shade and soil. Already I feel too ripe to stay so high in the treetop. I grow heavy with juice and the branch bends beneath me. But, my love, if we put down roots side by side and live with branches entangled, I can face becoming something new.
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