An Advent Poem by Benjamin David

Despite the elapsed time after their ending; after their abjuration - an elapsed time that subsisted like some weary stream without direction - her advent felt like some new season, some new world that had hibernated through the harsh tempests. Her visit brought with it all those embellishing, incomparable contours and, gosh, those shied, rose-hued colours on her cheeks that stood abloom. All at once, he fell in love with her in an almighty swoon. He lapsed into love the way she fell into her dreams at night: slowly, and then all at once.