someday i'll show this to you and you'll. just. know...

"sounds like sunday"
mineral

time doesn't always heal
it just breathes and swallows memories
like the seasons change
sending showers
beating flowers into the mud
and nothing is forever in this place
nothing but the way my heart fits in your hands
the held breath of hope
and the sweet lingering taste of grace
how blessed we are for crying now,
for we will laugh someday� and how.