The Way to Love Anything is to Realize That it Might be Lost

She came to me crawling... dirt bellied and burnt backed. She curled up into a crescent moon when I touched her. Each day she ate 100 times her weight in leaves. My hands became heavy with her. Then solace became her middle name. She wrapped herself in a silk blanket for six months. When I saw her again, she had powdered wings and only knew me enough to write my name in the sky as she flew away.