Folk music
Poetry
Rivers without banks…
Lyrically reading to you
During our three day love fests
My masterful intensity melting
Into puddles of sentiment
“I will love you always” dropping from my lips
The wine of words that are neither lie
Nor surrender
Toasting to love’s ever-changing definition
Knowing how it can turn acerbic
Or sour into distant memories
That somehow sweeten as they age
Nostalgia is a budding curiosity
Pertaining to a past that is nothing
If not irrelevant
Excepting the friendships that have blossomed
And the roots that were exhumed
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