March

Soft and sweet.

I will remember you by.

As if in a dream,

no more traces left behind.

Shedding our leftover skin,

we march with a lion’s heart of a kind.

Though we hold on by the skin of our teeth,

no more regrets as we sit to dine.

Hold your glass of crystalline,

may we meet again to cherish this wine.

4.1.2025