Our love, a terrified fugitive leans wide eyed on 12th story ledge, set to jump the instant we stop trying to save it.
Every fight, every mean word is the strong wind that blows at the ledge, our future teeters over the streets barely able to fight the cold angry wind.
How much would die if our love fell? If our love loses it's footing all is lost with it; walks while holding hands, vineyards, Route 66. So much.
It doesn't have to die, or vanish or fall apart. What if this is the one true love, a soul mate and then gone forever. What if we've had a small taste of what love on earth can be but we go our separate ways never to meet again. How sad that would be.
I hope we can talk our love down off the ledge and into safe hands again. I hope.