What is summer without the darkness of the cold?

It would not exist, it would just be day.

There are days when I wish the nightfall would cool

the soft shades of my eyes so that my dreams would be

crystal to see you all the more.

To see more, of you, inside. 

Inside your heart and mind.

What is winter without the damp dregs of the noontime 

on a hot August day?

I wish the seasons would balance, sitting in the middle

of the pendulum of your soul. 

My love is never droll, never lost, never gone.

You hold the wand as a magician; holding, simultaneously

in your left hand the sword in the stone.

You are all that the world could ever want. 

It does not make sense.

But, yes, it actually, certainly does.