The braille of your face tells the story of my future.
In mossy detail I see my path unwinding.
My name is changed to Eden for I become a garden growing.
You eat fruit from my trees and we produce life.
Ever lasting
Ever evolving
Ever loving
Life.
And when the day comes that our physical beings are no more,
Your bones and marrow will nourish my soil.
A tree will grow from where you last stood.
And many years later as young lovers look at the sky
Through branches that spell out our names,
They will see their futures unfolding
In the braille of each others faces.