I know little and understand less.
As for you,
I would be wind
Racing across the lake,
Changing light’s play on the surface.
I would be breath
Rolling over the shore,
Brushing worry into smooth, soft beds.
I am a brief storm; you are a brilliant stone.
I am impulse; you are permanence.
This is my romance:
You are another tempest.
Ancient and heavy, I am shelter from the whirlwind.
I understand so little and know so much.
We are storm and stone, wind and waves.
A gray day is ours for dancing.