The year I thought nothing
could grow in my heart:

That was the year I met you
with everything blackened,
deadened inside me,
you took my heart,
held it in your hands, and
like a lover of gardens,
pulled out the weeds
that I thought had permanently
implanted themselves,
and replanted my love,
only to tend with water
and years of sunlight
the beauteous garden
that without you
we would never have
to pick from, to eat,
to admire.