Dying love Stories

In the first springtime of our love Everything was as fresh and new, And tender as the bright green leaves Bursting forth from winter’s drab coat, Alive with burgeoning desire And the joy of revelation As we explored in sweet delight, The pale tones of our nakedness Subtle as the cherry blossoms On the trees outside your window, Every kiss replete with promise Of greater wonders yet to come. With summer our passion burned...