And maybe it overdid the job, for you stayed until autumn leaves withered a placid brush of green. Snowflakes glistened and melted into specks of frost bite. Sunlight dissolved remains of the past and coated skies in yellow paint.
But love loves you, because tornadoes are whirling against the storm while thunder clashes against roof. Ground shaking, pillars of stone decay against your touch.
You are still outside, feeling everything and nothing all at once.
I guess love was too selfish that he needed you all to himself.
And I wasn't so sure if it was the same love when you fell upon the Earth.
I spotted the first sign of dripping blood.
Perhaps love loves you too much.
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