Love-Line

 
Last night
at a restaurant in Riga
we both grapple with the design of time
and the breaking of fragile lines
to escape and find true love again.


It was 1944 when she found me
by the gate near the icy brook
wounded and scared, too stubborn to die
too young to be her enemy
old enough to know true love.
Fugitives embraced
fleeing the madness of war
crossing the perilous border
of unspoken love.
In the unforgiving cover of night
we had fallen, like an avalanche
our love smothered and frozen in time
buried in white silent graves.


Our bloodlines preceding us
entwined by fate
our souls reunited
in the love-lines of eternity.


At a restaurant in Riga
we both grapple with the design
of time and the future of our undying love.



Submitted in the Heartache, New Love comp