Is love worth the fear of losing?
Does one let the rage, or the tenderness, drive the act of choosing?
Does the blossom define, or the thorn define, the nature of the rose?
Are we stronger, or more vulnerable, in the moments when love grows?
Is life for saving by hiding away, or for spending outrageously before it turns grey?
It doesn't matter. When I first saw your eyes
there was no question left: just to jump was wise.
-HJ May 15, 2010