the times between

the times between were the growing times,
when we woke up to snow and still traveled north,
when we waited on Westminster Bridge for the turn of the year,
when I learned to be loved and to love more than I ever had before.

lost hands to hold

after five solid months together, in the middle of November, we returned to London and realised that our breaths together were numbered, so we grasped at them with grabby hands until they were gone.

fire of the nations

we wandered around the United Kingdom for two months,
climbing to peaks to catch the slipping sun,
whispering together on buses that crisscrossed the valleys,
holding hands briefly in worship,
and my heart broke and changed and grew so beautifully.