Wondering on a Morning in Early Fall

I’m grateful for her imperfect legs, her only physical blemish, but even there, she knows how to make them graceful.

I wonder if her name reflects her character, or whether once given, the Goddess imposed a certain disposition that she can’t quite resist.

I wonder if she’s subtly cruel or whether her cruelty is unintentional, something of which she’s unaware, something she herself doesn’t understand.

I wonder how long I’ve loved her, if it’s really been forever, and frequently, even more, I wonder how long I’ll be cursed with loving her, and then, should that curse be lifted,

I wonder if I would love her happily or love her not at all. There are aches one becomes used to and misses when they’re gone. I wonder if my love for her is one.
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