Knox.

Him and I,

we are a paradox.

We are falling together. Coming undone.

Diving deep within each other.

To the roots of our darkness.

Shadows unravelling secrets.

Yet we can feel it in our bones.

At the same time and space as the falling,

we are rising.

Our love shifting. Reaching.

Realigning with the promise of something more.

The space between our ribs blossoming with growing things.

Bending. Following the light.

Winter becoming spring.

The moon becoming the sun.

Even now, with these earthquakes at our feet,

thunder shaking walls,

lightning shattering glass,

they fade to nothing with his lips against mine.

Our broken pieces mending, coming together every night.

We are a home rebuilt.

Love with faith without reason.

Unequivocal. Absolute.

A certainty that does not flinch.

Like an oak tree. Strong in a storm.

Enduring. Lasting.

Pour toujours.