fit the first: callista. leaves are his beauty. branches his love.
you are on foot and i on the other. but a farmer does not plant two of the same seed together. oh patience! we can wait for them to grow. but we have a life to live and cannot wait forever. so celebrate! set your stomach free. and if you feel like redecorating than go ahead and clean! put that painting among leaves and branches crooked as his grandfather's bones. it's just a canvas bird but i'm sure it would be pleased. oh callista! pass down my back with your skin and scarlet streamers. though i have been told that a stone cannot hold on to slivers of light in a stream as it all passes over. a child grasps his mother apron for the scent alone. even when he is old. for it reminds him he was once loved. if only for a short while. so callista when you go make sure you leave behind a trace like footprints in the snow. oh if i could believe in patience! but i have never known it.